The Bet
by Aki-Hoshi
Summary: AU. HDOC. Post-war. It all started with a little bet. Draco Malfoy’s never been one to back down from a perfectly do-able bet. But when that bet involves Harry Potter...? Draco’s realising that this bet isn’t as cut and dry as it seems, nor as easy…
1. The Bet

_Update: 12.17.04: Hey everyone, I'm just re-submitting this chapter…I found some problems with the time-line I had set up…along with some typos. Harry and Draco are 23, not 22. And Raven's 21, not 20. Took me a minute to realise that._

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, only Raven. And this story. Yeah.

**Chapter Notes: **_Yeah…so I'm like beating my head against the wall right now. I stumbled upon some notes for _"Discoveries" _when I saw this little story idea I had written down…and now it won't leave me alone! Although…I'm not sure how much I'll be writing on this story…I've still got a few chapters 'til the end of Raven's first year at Hogwarts, so this one will definitely take a back-burner to the other story. But if everyone really wants me to continue this one as well, I'll do my best. It just kinda jumped out of me…and I have no clue where it's going, or how on earth it's all gonna happen…but I'm sure I'll think of something. Of course, ideas from you guys are always welcome… :)_

_Anyway, obviously, I'm on the Harry/Draco bandwagon…sorry if that offends any of you. If you don't like it, LEAVE. Get really friendly with the 'back' button. Flames about slash will only get laughed at. This story is a bit more mature than DFW, especially in theme. There will probably be a NC-17 version at some point…but I really don't like cutting my stories to make them appropriate…I think it detracts from the original vision. But seeing as has a 'no-tolerance' policy…_

_So again, in case some of you didn't read that last paragraph, **THIS IS SLASH! **With some hetero in there as well. So if you no like, you no stay. _

_Now that I've scared the other's away…ON WITH THE STORY!_

Please review; I'm sure you'll all have questions for me, and I'd only be too happy to explain.

**_ADDED 07.19.05: Also, there have been quite a bit of comments about this story being a parody or based off of the movie_ 'Cruel Intentions'_. To clear that up, no, this story has no basis from that movie whatsoever. I have seen the movie, and loved it, but I can honestly say that those comments_ reminded _me of it's existence! I had completely forgotten about it. So, any similarities are completely coincidental.  
_**

* * *

**The Bet**

**Chapter I-The Bet**

* * *

The afternoon sun shone brightly on the late summer grass. There was a slight breeze in the air, ruffling the yellowing leaves as the trees prepared for autumn. Students were mulling around, doing homework, or scuttling off to classes. The British Institute for Advanced Magical Learning, commonly known as the B.I., was in full swing of their fall term, and while it was a small university, it was well known as being one of the most advancing magical schools in the Northern Hemisphere, if not the world. 

The school existed in the small wizarding village of Rookwood, a town sitting on the edge of northern England, overlooking the sea and full of more trees than people. The school itself was eight different buildings arranged in a circle, four of which were large houses acting as the dormitories, and in the other four resided the classrooms.

While the curriculum consisted of all wizarding disciplines, the school was noted more for it's experimentation, spell and potion creation and medical advances than anything else. There was even a Quidditch team, the B.I. Sirens, which played against other similar institutes around the world, acting as a catalyst to get those who wanted to go pro the opportunity to be seen, as well as giving those who never had a shot at Hogwarts, the chance to play and become better. The school acted more like a muggle community college; most of the students were changing their post-secondary school chosen jobs and needed to take classes, or were just taking brush-up courses. And there were even a few who had just wanted to keep learning, or even just finish their original schooling, seeing as how the war against the Dark Lord Voldemort ruined and/or disrupted everyone's lives. While Hogwarts was still standing, like the war had never happened, many of the older students had spent more time fighting than going to school, and had yet to take their N.E.W.T.s, let alone get a job. And now they were too old to continue at Hogwarts, although many missed the enigmatic school.

The B.I. was not nearly as mysterious and grand as Hogwarts, but contained many of the same qualities, including house-elves, hidden rooms, and talking suits of armour. It had been founded by Garthamel the Great, a few hundred years ago, to ensure that all wizards got a proper education, and if they desired, have the opportunity to create their place in the wizarding world, by helping the advancement of magic. The classes were more like self-taught experiments, with a properly trained wizard to assign the occasional homework assignment and check on the pupils' progress and work. With the addition of the current student population, the courses changed slightly to be more taught than experimentation, but no one seemed to mind too much.

A majority of the younger students currently enrolled were directly from Hogwarts, and as such, retained many of their old prejudices and identifiers. The dormitories at B.I. were not divided up like the houses of Hogwarts, in fact, since two of the dorms were for girls, and two were for boys, there had been quite a bit of mixing as far as the assignment of rooms went. Fortunately, when the students appealed, the assignments were changed to house ex-Gryffindors and ex-Hufflepuffs together, and ex-Ravenclaws and ex-Slytherins together. Any other students enrolled were generally much older, and as such, they tended to live else where, away from the rowdy young adults that seemed to have taken over the campus.

Each dorm has four rooms, with a lounge and kitchen downstairs, and two bathrooms. The kitchens are actually used, as the house-elves are really only there for the staff and to clean the classrooms. There are two people per bedroom, and the remaining room had been given to a vote: generally, whoever was to represent the dormitory in the student housing committee.

The war seemed to have taken it's casualties rather evenly on both sides, including Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Bellatrix and Radolphus Lestrange, Marcus Flint, Pansy Parkinson, McNair, Avery, Professor Sinistra, Professor McGonagall, Mad-Eye Moody, Padma Patil, Colin Creevey, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Alicia Spinnet, Jack Sloper, Terry Boot, Lisa Turpin, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, all among too many others. Some felt the losses more directly than others; Parvati Patil had lost her twin, Dennis Creevey, his older brother…the survivors held a day of mournful solitude on the same day every year, the day of Voldemort's reckoning, to remember those who had given their lives so freely to the cause to stop the madman. While a few of them had wound up becoming Death Eaters, and perishing with their parents, usually it was the result of forceful servitude, than actual choice. A few more just stayed neutral or hid with their own families; and others still were full of painful scars, which were invisible to the eyes of those not looking for it. One of these latter people was Draco Malfoy, son of one of the most prestigious Death Eaters, who was forced to follow in his father's footsteps. And when he finally broke, he was cursed with the Unforgivables, among other things, by his own father, and was left to die, only to be saved by a few fellow Death Eaters and old friends from school, Blaise Zabini and Raven Harrell.

Right now, as the sun was shining down on the peaceful town of Rookwood, Draco and Raven were sitting in the school library, working on some Arithmancy charts, talking quietly amongst themselves. The library itself sat on the edge of the cliff the school was near, overlooking the sea. There was a long string of small mahogany tables lined up perpendicularly along the wide windows, giving everyone a spectacular view of the coming sunset. Rows upon rows of books stood along the opposite wall, and in a few nooks and crannies, there was the odd stuffy chair or two, where students could be seen talking in low tones, or snoozing between classes.

A few tables away from the ex-Slytherin duo, sat the most well known living wizard in the world; Harry Potter. While his presence still annoyed Draco, he did recognise that the boy had indeed saved the world, with the help of everyone involved, of course. Since it was more comfortable to keep up the same game he had at Hogwarts than think about his past or his parents' deaths, he did just that. And currently, while sitting next to his female companion, he kept glancing up at the Boy-Who-Lived-Yet-Again, watching him in contempt as he studied an old tome.

"You stare at him an awful lot, Malfoy."

"What? Who?"

"Potter."

"Humph. It's only because he's so bloody annoying. I'm just devising new ways to make his life hell." Raven chose not to try and convince her friend to stop acting like the childish brat he was back at Hogwarts, knowing it was no use. Acting like this was Draco's way of protecting himself from his past. Instead, she turned back to the devious thoughts coming to the fore of her mind.

"You sure it's not something else?"

"Harrell, what is your point? What else would it be?"

Raven leaned over. "Oh, c'mon, Draco. Don't tell me you don't see it."

"See what?" Draco bit out.

"All that sexual energy Potter emanates."

"Excuse me?" Draco said in surprise.

"Just look." When Draco didn't move his surprised gaze from Raven's face, she grabbed a hold of his chin and forced him to look at the other boy. "See all his dark, messy hair?" she said in low, purring tones.

"A rat's nest. Ugly."

"No. Sexy. Wind-blown. Like he just got off that incredibly fast Firebolt II of his." Draco made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. Raven leaned over more. "I wonder if his other broom is that fast," she whispered.

Draco's head whipped around, and he bumped noses with the Slytherin girl. His mouth hung slightly open, and his eyes were wide, but he quickly and easily schooled them into a glare at the grin on Raven's face.

"Speaking of Quidditch," she continued, "you ever wonder what that body looks like under the robes?"

"No, I can't say I have." The boy sneered.

"Well, I'd say he looks mighty fine. Just as good as yourself, actually."

"Oh? Been sneaking into the Quidditch locker rooms?" It was well known that Potter had taken up the current Seeker spot for the Sirens, but it was also well known that Malfoy acted as back-up Seeker. Not that it mattered, really. He hardly ever saw the pitch, let alone got to play. Perfect Potter was never fortunate to fall off the cliff behind the school, in Draco's opinion.

Raven smiled wickedly. "Only a bit." She admitted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "See anything you like?"

"Oh, a few things," she said as she raked her eyes over the pale boy next to her. Both of the ex-Slytherins were well aware of their attraction to each other, but did nothing to provoke it, other than playful bantering.

Shaking his head at the girl's insinuation, Draco leaned forward to continue with this chart, but Raven forced his head back up.

"His glasses…" She prompted.

A heavy sigh. "Still ugly. Large, unsophisticated," was Draco's bored reply.

"Wrong again. Smart. Intelligent. Makes you wonder what he'd look like with them off." Draco was silent, like he seemed to be considering the information. Raven continued. "Those soulful, deep green eyes…you could stare into them all day. His most expressive asset."

Looking into the girl's own deep green eyes, Draco smirked. "Are you sure you're not getting off on this conversation, Raven?"

"Only if you are, Dray."

Draco snorted. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not. You know I don't swing that way."

Raven smirked. "So you say." There was a pause as Draco started back on his studies. "I bet you can't do it." She finally said.

"Do what?" Draco was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to finish this chart now so he could have the night off.

"Seduce him."

"Him? As in Potter? Are you out of your bloody mind?" Draco's voice rose slightly at the end, and a few people looked over at the pair, namely Harry Potter himself, who had a clear view of the two sitting just a few tables away.

"Shh!" Raven' said, and the onlookers went back to what they were doing, except Harry, who kept his gaze for a moment before looking back down to his book.

"Are you actually asking me to seduce him?" Draco asked in a whisper.

"Sure. If you can do it…I'll give you something you've been wanting for a long time." Raven's mouth had twisted into a mischievous grin.

"What, my inheritance? Potter's death?" Draco had folded his arms across his chest, and sat back, gazing at the topic of conversation. He was pouting slightly, remembering the fact that the rest of his inheritance was still unattainable; the Ministry wasn't finished using it to make reparations yet. Not that his money was the only money being used in that way, of course. And it was very old news that Draco wanted Potter dead, but no such luck so far.

"No." Was Raven's low reply. She leaned forward so that her mouth was right next to the Slytherin boy's ear. Placing a hand on his upper thigh and squeezing it a bit she breathed, "Me."

An involuntary shiver ran unbidden through Draco's body. He closed his eyes briefly while gulping hard. Raven…to have her would be…well, she _was_ perfect wife material for the last remaining Malfoy, not to mention a fine piece of arse that had been elusive to Draco for the better part of his hormonally active life…and seeing as her deviousness level seemed to have just shot way up as well…

"And if I can't do it?" He finally asked.

Raven sat back, breaking off contact. Draco secretly cursed the loss. "Well, I could be a total cow and deny you anything, but that wouldn't be smart, considering my own desires."

"And just what are your desires?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.

"What, can't you tell?" When all Raven got was a pointed look, she answered, "You, of course."

"What, so either way this turns out, we're shagging?"

"Jeeze, you make it sound so…barbaric."

"Well, that's what this is all about, right? Sex?"

Raven smirked. "Among other things."

"What other things?"

"Let's just say I have some plans of my own regarding our little Gryffindor hero."

"You're just a right little slut, aren't you?" Draco jibed playfully.

"I just happen to like my coffee two ways: black and with cream." Draco shook his head at Raven's allusion. He took another look at the unruly head of the boy across from him.

"If you want me, and I want you, why don't we just get on with it?" He finally asked. "Why involve Potter at all?"

"For a few reasons. One, although you don't quite see it yet, Potter is the most highly shaggable bloke in his entire school, let alone Britain, and excluding present company of course. Two, I overheard his friend Granger going on to the Weasley girl about how sad it was that Harry was twenty-three and was still a virgin." Draco's eyebrows shot up at this, "And three, I want you. I want him. I want you both. Alone, together, all three of us. I'm purely selfish when it comes to you and Potter. And I _am_ a textbook Slytherin, after all. I devise a way to get what I want, and I get it."

Draco stared in mild shock for a moment at the dark-haired minx sitting next to him. _Just when you think you know someone…_ Sighing, he said, "Well, if I'm getting you in the sack either way, I don't see why not."

"So it's a deal?"

"It's a deal. Only because your sordid little fantasies are intriguing." He smiled.

"Hey! My fantasies aren't sordid. They're sexy. And romantic."

Draco laughed, which earned a few annoyed looks. "You'll only get romance out of me when we're married, Love."

"Oh, and you're just assuming I'll marry you?"

Draco's cock-sure grin was now in place. "I'm completely sure of it," he said while gathering his books. It looked like he'd have to finish his chart at home. At least he had his own room…

Raven 'humph-ed' in response to Draco's certainty, but didn't keep arguing the point. She also gathered her belongings, and together the Slytherin duo left the library for the dazzling early evening outside.

"So," the Malfoy heir said as they made their way across the courtyard to the dormitories, "when do I start Mission: Seduce Potter?"

"Tomorrow."

"Is there any particular way you want me to go about this? Or can I use any method I see fit?"

"No, you can do it in any way you want. But don't just take him by force, Draco. Actually get him to want it as bad as I'm sure you will too. But I _do_ want you to keep a journal on your progress."

"A journal?"

"Yes. I want to know all about how it's going." The girl stopped suddenly and fished something out of her shoulder bag. Producing a long flat box, she said, "Here."

"What's this?" Draco asked, taking the pro-offered box. Opening it, he found a pure white quill of the highest quality sitting on black velvet.

"It works like a quick-notes quill. You suck on the tip, and it writes down your thoughts and memories, down to a T. Even stuff you don't consciously remember. It works as long as you concentrate on the selected memories you want it to record, for a minimum of five minutes. Then it'll carry on by itself until it's done."

Draco looked at Raven through his lashes. "You've been planning this, haven't you?"

Raven grinned. "Oh, I hoped for it."

Shaking his head, Draco closed the box and slipped it into his bag. "What on earth did I get myself into?" He asked as they continued walking.

"Welcome to Raven's World of Fantasies, Manipulation and Seduction, Dray."

* * *

A/N: Ok, just a few things…Raven is a bit different in this story, versus _Discoveries From Within_. She's completely a Slytherin, and her family, while not incredibly prestigious, is rather well off. And that's all I have figured out right now. ; P 

Also, halfway through writing this, I realised that I nicknamed the school "B.I." and that that kinda co-insided with one of the themes of the story…can anyone guess:) I know, I know. I'm evil. Anyway, for those of you who didn't quite get the reference… "B.I.- bi- bisexual…" Yeah. So. I'm going now.


	2. Mission: Seduce Potter

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, only Raven. And this story. Yeah.

**Chapter Notes: **_Ok, I have to tell everyone something completely crazy. Well, at least I think it is. As I was writing this, I was thinking that I needed to make sure my time-line was working properly. And originally, I just randomly picked a date for Draco's journal entry. "Septemeber 19th sounds good…" was kind of what I was thinking. Anyway, later in the chapter, I mention that it's a Friday… and lo and behold, when I double check to see just _what_ kind of day September 19, 2003 was…it was a **Friday**. Isn't that CREEPY?_

_Anyway, obviously, I'm on the Harry/Draco bandwagon…sorry if that offends any of you. If you don't like it, LEAVE. Get really friendly with the 'back' button. Flames about slash will only get laughed at. This story is a bit more mature than DFW, especially in theme. There will probably be a NC-17 version at some point…but I really don't like cutting my stories to make them appropriate…I think it detracts from the original vision. But seeing as has a 'no-tolerance' policy…_

_So again, in case some of you didn't read that last paragraph, **THIS IS SLASH! **With some hetero in there as well. So if you no like, you no stay. _

_Now that I've scared the other's away…ON WITH THE STORY!_

Please review; I'm sure you'll all have questions for me, and I'd only be too happy to explain.

* * *

**The Bet**

**Chapter II-Mission: Seduce Potter**

* * *

It was just before dawn the next morning; the cool morning dew was glistening on the grass. Inside Dormitory Three, home of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw male populations, there was a single candle lit, glowing softly on the pale head bent over an old desk. 

Draco Malfoy wasn't necessarily a morning person, but a few minutes ago, he woke with a start, the dreams that woke him fading away with the night. Slightly shaken, although unwilling to admit it, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping anymore, so he got out of bed, grabbed a blank journal, and started writing.

* * *

_19 September 2003_

_I can't believe I'm going to do this. I'm actually going to seduce Harry Potter into losing his virginity with a guy. And then I'm going to hand him over to Raven so she can have her wild way with him._

_The things I'll do for love._

_Which is what this is about, really. I've fallen in love with this absolutely wonderful, beautiful, exciting, enigmatic, extremely devious woman. I've completely fallen into her trap._

_And I don't care._

_I'm not even sure when it happened. We were never really friends at Hogwarts; in fact, she was a few years below me. And still, she got sucked into becoming a Death Eater at the pinnacle of the war, at the ripe age of sixteen. That was five years ago. Three years ago, she saved me. Her and Blaise. And I will forever be in their debt._

_So now I'm making plans to trap Potter myself. Only because she wants him. And me. And what she wants, I'll get for her._

_But I just want to forget about him. I act like still giving him hell is my only vice in life, but it's not. If only we didn't have to finish our N.E.W.T.s, we could both get on with our lives. But Potter's still here, and he's still annoying, and now I have to seduce him. Touch him. Kiss him. And I don't care what Raven says; I'm _not_ going to like it. I refuse to._

_And I know that I really don't _have_ to do it…and I'm not doing it just to have sex, either. I love her, and I want her to be happy. I want her to marry me. And I'll be damned if I lose this opportunity, let alone back down from a 'do'-able bet._

_Hopefully, it won't be the death of me._

_

* * *

_  
A loud shout and the sudden weight of someone jumping on his bed roused the dark-haired boy quite abruptly from his blessed sleep. 

"HARRY!" Seamus yelled, earning a sleep induced glare from the other boy. "It's time to get up!"

"Seamus, it's Friday. I don't have morning class. Bugger off." Harry rolled over and wrapped his head in his maroon comforter.

"But Harry…" the Irishman whined, stopping his jumping.

"I said, 'bugger off!'"

There was a pause, then: "Fine. I suppose I'll just have to tell that gorgeous blonde downstairs to go away."

Harry slowly pulled the covers from his head. "'Gorgeous blonde?'"

Seamus nodded, grinning. "Yep. Asked specifically for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Now get out of bed and get downstairs. It's never nice to keep someone waiting." And with that, Seamus bounded off of Harry's bed and out of the room.

Harry reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a hold of his glasses, shoving them on his face. Running a mental checklist of all the blondes he knew who might have called for him, he quickly got out of bed, donning a Gryffindor-red tee shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Hastily pulling some socks and shoes on, he grabbed his brush and tried to tame his unruly locks. But it was useless; so sighing audibly; he made his way downstairs, putting a smile on his boyishly handsome face.

It fell as soon as he saw just _who_ the 'gorgeous blonde' was.

"Seamus!" Harry yelled. "You failed to mention that the 'gorgeous blonde' was actually Malfoy!" Draco Malfoy stood there, impeccable as always in his black robes and green tie. His hands were in his pockets as he glanced around the foyer. At Harry's little hissy fit, he smirked that annoying smirk of his.

Seamus' face poked out of the kitchen. "Oh? Did I forget to mention that? Sorry."

"You are not," Harry said.

"You're right. He promised to hex me to next Sunday if I told you who he was."

"'Gorgeous blonde,' Finnigan?" Malfoy injected, arching an eyebrow.

Seamus shrugged. "How else was I supposed to get him out of bed without telling him it was you?"

"You're not a pouf, are you?" The ex-Slytherin asked.

"No, not as far as I know," the tow-headed ex-Gryffindor said, turning back to the kitchen.

"As enlightening as this all is," Harry said, "just what is it you want, Malfoy?" He crossed his arms over his chest, obviously irritated at being woken up because of the flaxen haired young man.

"Just a chat, Potter. Care for a walk?"

Harry studied his long-time rival for a moment.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Potter. I just want to talk."

Sighing in a huff, Harry said, "Fine. Just a second, let me grab a sweater." And Harry went up the stairs and came back down a minute later with a green knit sweater on, adorned with a large gold 'H' on the front. The latest Christmas present from Molly.

"Like the sweater, Potter."

"Shove it, Malfoy." He grumbled.

"Touché." Draco opened the door behind him. "Shall we?" He gestured Harry outside into the crisp mid-morning air.

As the door closed behind them, Harry asked, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

The Slytherin dodged the question by asking is own. "Eaten yet? I could go for coffee and a scone myself."

"Just spit it out, Malfoy."

"My, a bit grumpy before the morning cuppa, are we?"

"Only when I'm greeted with the sight of you first thing."

Draco just grinned. "Let's go over to Celestine's Café. I'll buy you some breakfast. Then we'll chat."

"I'd rather we just get to the point." But the loud growling coming from Harry's mid-section made the words he had just spoken ring false.

Malfoy smirked. "I think your stomach begs to differ."

"Oh, shut up," Harry said as his feet carried him to the path that would take them off campus and into the village.

Their walk was encased in silence, neither daring to speak. But Harry, although wary, was still dying to know what Malfoy wanted to 'just chat' about.

Things between them had been…odd since the war. Malfoy had hardly been Harry's favourite person before the war, let alone during. Becoming a Death Eater like his father didn't help things. It took days upon days of questioning and vials and vials of Veritaserum to the point of sickness on Malfoy's part to convince anyone that he had left the Death Eaters long before he came to Dumbledore, and he had left them by choice. The fact that he had willingly come forward, with Blaise Zabini and Raven Harrell (who were also questioned into sickness) by his side, was a definitive factor. Dumbledore had caught word of the three's odd disappearance from Voldemort's ranks, and had given them sanctuary in the last few months of the war.

While Malfoy wasn't quite his usual sneering self like before the war, the first time he had seen Harry after the war, there was an unspoken agreement to not talk about any of it, and just continue with what was comfortable; retain some normalcy where there had been chaos and radical change in both of their lives.

"_Potter."_

"_Malfoy." Harry inclined his head slightly._

"_We've changed."_

"_Yes, we have."_

"_I still hate you."_

"_And I, you."_

"_Good, as long as we're clear on that."_

"_That we are."_

_Malfoy turned on his heel and strode away. "Goodbye, Potter."_

"_Later, Malfoy."_

What neither boy had known at the time, was that while they had successfully helped take down the most powerful dark wizard of the age, they still would still be required to finish their N.E.W.T.s if they wanted to find a job in the aftermath of the war. So they were sent, with the rest of the young survivors, to the B.I. Most of them were twenty at the time, and at the beginning, the young adults divided their time between rebuilding the destroyed villages and buildings, and going to school. Luckily for the wizarding world, the majority was still standing, while large muggle villages were gone, completely destroyed by Voldemort's cause, in an effort to rid the world of them. The destruction seemed to have been caught just at the breaking point of overflowing. The wizarding world was safe, the muggles still mostly oblivious. Many in the wizarding world still did not trust the remaining Malfoy, but since the Saviour of the Wizarding World didn't seem to want to cast him away or put him in Azkaban, even with his involvement in the killing of innocent people, then no one really contested him. Malfoy, Zabini and Harrell were certainly outcasts for quite a while, but when they actively played a role in helping the victims of the war, as well as doing everything in their power to track down any remaining Death Eaters, the angry crowd of vengeance-seekers eventually died down, albeit grudgingly.

What the public didn't know, and only a select few did, including Harry, was that Draco and his friends had fled after their first round in the fore of destruction. The 'power and glory' was not what they had been expecting. Harry also knew that while the other boy didn't show it, he was still deeply affected by his parent's deaths, even with the hatred from what they had become flowing in his veins. Harry secretly sympathised with the loss of one's parents, seeing as he had lost not only his biological parents, but also his godfather, Sirius.

Finally, the pair arrived at the small café, walking inside and grabbing a booth in the back corner. Immediately, a handsome dark-haired wizard appeared, handing the daily menu to each of the boys.

"How are you fine blokes doing this wonderful autumn's morning?" The wizard asked with a charming smile on his face.

Malfoy answered for them. "Just fine, Celestine. How about your self?"

"Quite well, Draco. What would you two like to drink?"

"The usual for me, today." Malfoy replied, handing back the menu.

"Coffee, black, and an apple scone." The proprietor affirmed. "And for you, Harry?" While Harry didn't come to the café often, everyone knew he had been living there for the past two years or so, and since everyone also knew his face, it wasn't hard to figure out whom he was. The informality of Celestine was comfortable though, so Harry didn't mind.

"Um…coffee, with cream, and a…" He quickly browsed the day's menu.

"The breakfast foccacia's good," Draco offered.

"Then I'll take that."

"Two coffees, one black, one milked, an apple scone and a breakfast foccacia coming right up."

"Thanks, Celestine."

"Anything for you, Mr. Malfoy." And the friendly owner was off; only to be back a minute later with their orders.

When Harry immediately poured an ample amount of cream into his coffee, Draco chuckled, while sipping on his own black cuppa.

"What?" Harry asked, sounding slightly put off.

"Nothing…just thinking about something Raven said…"

"Really? And just what did she say?"

"Oh, something about liking her coffee two ways…" Draco secretly found it highly amusing that the 'black coffee' liked his own with milk, while the 'creamed coffee' liked his straight up.

"Ok…" Harry shrugged off the odd answer and tore into his foccacia. He really was quite hungry.

"Goodness, Potter. Do they not feed you in Number One?"

The bespectacled boy glared. "Of course they do. I just have a healthy appetite."

"I guess so." And Draco quietly ate his scone, all the while trying to figure out exactly how to approach this. It would have to be perfect if he were to get the proper response. And yes, he realised that he was acting like a bloody Gryffindor and jumping in head first, but it wasn't that he was without a plan…he just needed to tread carefully if this was going to work. He knew he would have to get past their animosity for each other if Harry was even going to _consider_ thinking about Draco in _that way._ Not that Draco was particularly fond of changing things, but it wasn't an obscure idea to him either.

When Harry had finished off his foccacia and was sitting back, sipping the dregs of his coffee, he spoke. "Thanks, Malfoy. For breakfast."

"It's of no consequence, Potter."

"I really can pay for it myself, though."

"I know that, but I offered, so I'm paying."

"If you insist," Harry said.

"I do." There was a long pause, in which that Celestine refilled their cups, and the boys both tried to figure out who would start. Apparently, they both concluded that they should speak first.

"Potter, I-"

"Malfoy, what-"

There was an awkward pause, and then Harry tried again. "You wanted to talk."

"Yes." And that was all the boy said.

"Well?" Harry prompted. "I don't mean to rush you or anything, seeing as you obviously find what ever it is you need to say important, but I do have class in a few hours."

"So do I. But I'm skipping."

"What? You're cutting class?"

"Just this once. I have a feeling that we're going to be talking for a while."

"And just what makes you think that?"

"Potter…what I have to say isn't easy for me."

"I can see that."

"Will you just listen for a second?" the Slytherin nearly snapped.

"I'm all ears," Harry said sarcastically.

The Malfoy heir breathed in deeply and let out his breath in a calming gesture. "I want to call a truce," he said at last.

"Excuse me?"

"A truce, Potter. I want to stop all this childish bantering we've been doing. We're adults now. We need to learn to live with our past history together and get on with our lives."

There was a long pause while Draco stared straight into Harry's amaze-laced features. Then the darker boy asked, "What…what made you change your mind?"

"Raven, actually. She said that acting like the war never happened is never going to make it go away. That the two of us need to sort out our differences."

"Sort out our differences?"

"Yes," Draco took a sip of his coffee.

"And then what? Are we just supposed to be automatic friends or something?"

"How the hell should I know? It was her suggestion." Which wasn't a complete lie. Raven, on many occasions, had tried to get Draco to see that his behaviour was really pretty petty.

"And you just decided that it was a good idea? Just because your girlfriend suggested it?"

"She's not my girlfriend. And no. It's crossed my mind once or twice in the past few years, actually. I want to move on. The world is different than it was five years ago. I'm different. _We're_ different," he said truthfully.

"Ok…" Harry considered this offer. If Draco Malfoy of all people wanted to talk about it…then he supposed he could tap into his Gryffindor courage and talk about it too. Pulling a knee up to his chest, he finally said, "How about we talk about what happened, how we feel about it, we 'sort out our differences' as Raven put it, and then see what happens."

"Fair enough."

"Would you like to start, or shall I?"

"I would like to." Harry nodded in response. "Potter, I…some part of me is regretful for all the shit I've dealt you in the past…especially considering the role you were born into. I realise now that you never grew up thinking you were famous, that you really didn't like the attention. But then again," Malfoy said with a grin, "those times were some of the best of my life. Not that life now isn't pleasant enough…but it just feels so…" The blonde trailed off, looking past the table his eyes were gazing at.

"Empty? Like you don't know what you're going to do with yourself?" Harry offered.

Draco smirked. "Yeah, something like that. But it almost feels like there's something building too. Like there's some big thing that's coming and I haven't the foggiest what it could be. Unlike towards the end of our seventh year…"

"You mean the one we never finished?"

"Yeah."

"You know, Malfoy, I never had you pegged as someone who actually thought about what your actions did to people, as long as you wound up on top." It was said with a small smile.

"Like I said Potter, I've changed. I may not always act like it, but I have."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes. I noticed; the first time I saw you after the war had finally ended. You looked the same…but different. For one, it had been nearly two years since I had last saw you, but you're eyes were…darker. Like you had seen and done more things in the past two years than you had ever wanted to. It reminded me of what I see in the mirror everyday." He whispered. The conversation suddenly had a heavy air to it.

"You see the deaths of thousands, and hear the cries of those dying around you?"

"Yes. The ones of those I could never save." They looked directly in each other's eyes for a moment.

"You can't carry that around with you, Potter. There was nothing you could do. Believe me, I should know."

"That doesn't mean anything to me, Malfoy. _I_ was the Saviour of the wizarding world; _I_ was the one who had to defeat Voldemort, no one else. It was my job, and my inability to pull it together in those early years cost the lives of thousands."

Draco sat stunned for a moment. He would have never known that Potter truly believed all that if he hadn't heard it from the boy's own mouth. How could anyone truly believe that the deaths at the hands of Voldemort and his followers was Harry Potter's fault? Draco had learned, within those last few months in sanctuary, what Potter had gone through to get to the point where he could finally kill the Dark Lord. How much he had had to sacrifice to become powerful enough, quick enough and smart enough. The ex-Slytherin had never imagined that it hadn't been easy for Potter. After all, he _was_ the Boy-Who-Lived. Wasn't this supposed to come naturally for him? Apparently not. The truth about Potter's childhood had finally been revealed to the recovering Death Eater, and he was shocked to realise that Harry had dealt with more in his then twenty years than should be humanly possibly to survive. Sure, Draco had known about most of the goings on during school, but the other things…the things only Harry and the few really close to him knew…even now, Draco was curious to know it all. Just how could this young man, who generally seemed so aloof now a days, believe that he was a cause of all the devastation that had plagued mankind in the last years of his teenage life?

Granted, even knowing what he did know, the Malfoy heir still hadn't wanted to let go of old prejudices, and so he clung to them like a leech, becoming secure with old habits, regardless of how much he had changed. But now he was finally getting rid of his security blanket, and he only hoped he wouldn't regret it.

"Potter," Malfoy started, for the second time that day unsure how to start. He hoped it wouldn't become a habit. "It wasn't as simple as you might want to think. No one knew what hit them. In fact, _I_ didn't even know what I was about to go do until I got there. I think they were afraid that us younger ones would chicken out."

"And you did, didn't you?" There was a light accusation in Harry's tone.

Malfoy suddenly became cross. "No. I went in, killed anyone in my sight, then left."

"Just like that? Without any remorse?"

"Of course I felt remorse. But I was more disgusted than anything. Why do you think I came to Dumbledore after that? I couldn't handle doing it again, although I tried. So when the Death Eaters set out a few weeks later, I broke. I refused to do it. That was when Father cursed me and left me to die, which I'm sure you know all about."

The Gryffindor nodded. "So what did you do before all that? You had been a Death Eater for a few years already, hadn't you?"

"To be honest, I didn't do a whole lot. I tortured a few muggles, and even a few unknown wizards, but that was all. I didn't get the _pleasure_," Malfoy said sarcastically, "to kill anyone. Voldemort apparently didn't want to draw too much attention those first few years I had been a Death Eater."

"I don't understand, Malfoy. Why wait? Voldemort had plenty of dark creatures and Death Eaters at his hands to come and take me out, why wait until I could possibly be a formidable opponent?"

"I don't know, Potter. I really don't. I never quite made it up into the higher ranks, even with my father's status. All I know is that Voldemort was a madman, and whatever insane plans he had going around in his head were just that: insane."

Harry silently agreed and the boys sat in silence a moment while Celestine refilled their cups again, and Harry asked for more cream. It was a few more moments before Harry asked quietly, "Do you ever have nightmares, Malfoy?"

Draco looked steadily at the other man. "Every night of my life, Potter." Harry nodded, and then Draco asked a question that was sitting in the back of his head, waiting to be asked. "Do you really believe that all of that was your fault?"

Harry seemed pained. "Yes. I may not have killed them, but I didn't save them either."

"Potter, I told you earlier that there was nothing you could do. It was too fast and practically un-planned. You can't do anything about it now. They're dead."

Harry's temper suddenly flared. "I know that, Malfoy! I know they're dead! I know you helped kill them! I know it all!" The dark-haired boy stood up suddenly, slamming his cup on the table. "But that doesn't make it any easier to bear." And with that, the Saviour of the wizarding world strode quickly out of the café, leaving a stunned Draco Malfoy in his wake.

"_Shit,_" the Adonis muttered. Standing up, he threw a few coins onto the table, gave a short nod to Celestine, and then followed his companion outside. He knew he had just blown it. And now he had to go make reparations, especially if this was ever going to work. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to apologise, considering he wasn't sure he did anything wrong in the first place, and Malfoys really didn't apologise either. It had been hard enough that first time. _Think about the plan, I'm doing this for Raven…and it probably needs to be done anyway…oh, bloody hell!_

Draco found the other boy walking quickly into the woods not to far away.

"Potter!" He jogged slightly to catch up. "Potter, wait!" He arrived at the side of the angry young man.

"Go _away,_ Malfoy." Potter's face was as closed as an enchanted book, his shoulders hunched, fists clenched and his eyes staring straight ahead.

"No, Potter, I won't. I need you to listen to me." The Gryffindor stopped abruptly.

"Why? So you can just bring it all up again? No, I don't think so, Malfoy. I was happy having dealt with it all _my_ way. Recognising that it happened, then ignoring it. Forgetting. Getting on with my life as best I could. Trying to be normal for once. And then you just _had_ to come over and muck it all up, just to clear your conscience. Stay away from me, Malfoy. Or you'll see first-hand what happened to Voldemort while you were in 'sanctuary.'"

Then the irate wizard turned away, walking deeper into the woods, towards the sea. And Draco let him.

Once Harry was out of his sight, Draco let out a frustrated breath and turned to walk back to his dormitory.

That _did not_ go as planned _at all._

_

* * *

A/N: Just for reference, the name of the cafe (and the owner of said cafe) is pronounced _

cell-iss-teen. _I got it from the "Ah! My Goddess" movie, for those who might have been wondering. I love that movie. The English version voice actor is awesome for that part. Yeah. I'm crazy._

**PinkKangaroo:**I'm glad you like my writing. I try to make it interesting and well-written. I surround myself in the writing that I like, so that it rubs off a little on me. And yes, Raven is very different in this story. She's actually more like how I naturally am. Devious and scheming, but loving and caring about those close to her. I'll try to update as much as I can…I've been a little more motivated to write this than DFW, though.

**Twodollartrick:** I'm glad you like Raven. She's currently in both of the stories I have on , but not all of them. She's a little different in Discoveries From Within, though. Granted, she's also younger, so…Like I told PinkKangaroo, the Raven in this story looks the same, but is more like me personality wise. She's not quite as quick-to-temper as in the other story. And yes, I agree about Draco's brattiness. There's nothing for it, I'm afraid. Well, maybe there's something… ;)

**Addmoose2004:** Thanks for reviewing! Yes…Raven will most **definitely** have her way. Something about the easy manipulation of men… :P


	3. Plan B

**QUICK UPDATE! It may be a while until I update...because I need a beta. And I'm going no furthur until I have one. So, sorry if that sucks, but it needs to be done. If you want it to go faster, apply for my beta position. :D**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, only Raven. And this story. Yeah.

**Chapter Notes: **_I really hope you guys all like this chapter. It took me a while to get the tone right. And I'm so happy I got so many reviews for just the two chapters I have put up! (I really think it's just the Draco/Harry thing…)_

_Anyway, obviously, I'm on the Harry/Draco bandwagon…sorry if that offends any of you. If you don't like it, LEAVE. Get really friendly with the 'back' button. Flames about slash will only get laughed at. This story is a bit more mature than DFW, especially in theme. There will probably be a NC-17 version at some point…but I really don't like cutting my stories to make them appropriate…I think it detracts from the original vision. But seeing as has a 'no-tolerance' policy…_

_So again, in case some of you didn't read that last paragraph, **THIS IS SLASH! **With some hetero in there as well. So if you no like, you no stay. _

_Now that I've scared the other's away…ON WITH THE STORY!_

Please review; I'm sure you'll all have questions for me, and I'd only be too happy to explain.

* * *

**The Bet**

**Chapter III-Plan B **

* * *

_19 September 2003_

_I realise that this is my second journal entry today…but I don't care._

_Damn Potter. Damn him and his bloody problems._

_What was Raven thinking? Did she even realise what she was setting me up for? Bloody woman._

_Bloody hell to everything._

_Ok, now that I let all of that out-let's get back to business._

_Potter. And how to get him to want a Malfoy._

_This is not going to be easy. While I'm keeping a separate journal with _only_ the events between Potter and I, I can't help but talk about it here, as well. He's like a ticking bomb…I thought what I was doing was working, but apparently there's more than enough shit underneath Potter's façade to kill over a hundred Dark Lords in one go._

_I started out with trying to open communication. And I really didn't want to do it, to talk to him, but I have to. Logically, it'll be better once I do, regardless of the bet. I know that. And it scares me. I hate admitting that I have a security blanket in Potter of all people, but I do._

_Raven says we have to both want it. I can't take it from him by force. I think she's trying to get me to warm up to him for the…'other' things she has planned. Like just getting him to sleep with me has to involve emotion, or else it doesn't count. No unattached fucking allowed._

_It makes me feel sick just thinking about it._

_And I was truthful, with what I said to him. I realise now how much he's done for the world, how much he had to sacrifice…and I still can't believe he blames himself. I just can't believe it._

_No one, not even Potter, should believe something like that about themselves. Ever._

* * *

"So? How goes it?" Raven said as she plopped down next to Draco, who was busy in the library finishing off the homework he missed the day before. Instead of going to class like he could have (seeing as the 'talk' didn't go as planned), he sat, locked up in his room, going over 'Plan B'. 

"Not well," was the boy's short reply.

"Oh? What happened?" Raven sounded slightly concerned.

"Well, I finally followed your advice; to talk to him and 'sort out our differences'. I figured it would help break the ice."

"And it didn't work." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No. It didn't. It…wasn't going too bad at first, but then I said something to piss him off."

"What did you say?"

Draco sat back for a moment before speaking. "Did you know that Potter blames himself for all those deaths during the war? Some of the ones _we_ caused?"

Raven's jaw dropped. "_What?_ He does? He blames himself?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. I hadn't expected that. I told him that he couldn't blame himself, that there was nothing he could do, that he couldn't fix it. They're all dead."

"And that's when he snapped."

"Yes."

"Draco, if I didn't know you any better, I'd almost say that you actually sound concerned about Potter."

Draco glared. "It was just unexpected, that's all. Besides, it seems like you might care about him yourself."

"Actually, I do." Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "Do you know what you're going to do now?" Raven said before Draco could utter a word.

"Yes. I sat in my room all day yesterday, trying to figure out what to do."

"And?"

"And…I've decided that not only do I need to apologise, which I really don't want to do, by the way, but I also need to appeal to his romantic side."

"His romantic side?"

"Yes. All Gryffindors have one. It's the only reason Weasley and Granger ever hooked up."

"Yes, I heard they're finally engaged."

"Really? Well, as much as it disgusts me, it's about bloody time."

"Draco…"

"What? Look, I'll try to put aside differences with Potter on your behalf, but don't expect me to go graveling to the Mudblood and the Weasel any time soon."

"I'm not saying I particularly like them either, but honestly, Dray, your prejudices don't hold anymore. Not after all we've done to help the muggles."

Draco uncharacteristically slumped back into his chair, and looked up at the vaulted library ceiling, his arms dangling at his sides. "I know," he said resignedly. "Its just…do you know how hard it is to break old habits?"

"Yes, I do. And I have, for the most part. You're stronger than me, Draco. I know you can do this."

He looked over at her in mock accusation. "Was this another one of your hidden agendas?"

She smiled. "Possibly." What Draco realised then was that although he had control of the situation with Potter (or, at least, he was _supposed_ to), Raven was the Queen of this situation. She just kept throwing new shit out at him, and he was supposed to bend over and say 'yes please, Love,' and deal with it. _Goddamn_ she was devious; she manipulated him like it was nothing. And it was _so_ _hot_. Draco didn't know what to do with himself anymore. It was a love-hate relationship with the woman. When had he become so bloody soft?

Eventually he sighed. "What am I to do with you?"

"Sate my lust for the things I want in life, and I'll be happy." She made it sound like he should already know this.

"You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"But you still love me."

"And you know it."

There was a pause and then: "Dray?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha going to do to Potter next?"

Shaking his head he said, "Oh, no. You'll just have to read about it," while sitting straight up in his chair.

The dark-haired girl pouted. "Aww…"

"You can't do the hurt puppy-dog thing with me, babe. It won't work." Draco was glad he still had something up on her.

"Fine. But I want to read it as soon as you finish writing about it," she said as she stood from her chair.

"It'll be hot-off-the-press."

"Thanks, Love." She gave him a hug from behind and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Anything for you."

"And don't I know it."

"Yes. You exploit it whenever possible."

"Sorry."

"No you aren't. And don't you ever say that again. I don't care how much we've changed. We're still Slytherins. We don't say 'sorry.'"

Raven gave a little laugh. "You're right. I'm not really sorry. I'll see you later, babe."

"Bye." Watching her walk away, he thought to himself, _Maybe I should become a eunuch. It would save me a whole lot of trouble._ Then he shuddered at that unpleasant thought. _I think I'd rather fuck Weasley._

* * *

Harry Potter woke with a start, thinking he had heard something. Looking blearily around the dark room, he figured he must have imagined it and had just started to drift off again when he heard it again: a soft tapping sound. Now he knew he wasn't imagining things. Immediately, his wand was found from underneath his pillow and his glasses were put on his nose. Slowly, he moved his covers aside, easing himself out of his bed. Standing for a moment, he surveyed his room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He saw nothing amiss. But then he heard it a third time: a soft tapping on glass. Whirling around to the window next to his bed, he held his wand out before him; ready to take whatever it was down. 

But when he approached the window, the last thing he expected to see was a levitating Draco Malfoy, sitting cross-legged in the air like he was on the soft bed of grass below, haloed by the moonlight. So he let out a little yelp of surprise, dropping his wand. Quickly, he opened the window, leaned forward and said in a fierce whisper, "Malfoy! What in _Merlin's_ _name_ are you _doing?_"

Malfoy just grinned at the mixed look of surprise and irritation on Potter's face. "Oh," he said in nonchalance, "just waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?"

"Yes. Now c'mon. Or we'll miss it."

Harry stood back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Malfoy, I thought I told you to leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you. Go away." Then he moved forward to close the window, but Malfoy levitated himself forward, blocking the way.

"Well I'm not going to go away, Potter. Now get some pants and shoes on. We're going on a walk."

"Another one? And I don't have any say in the matter?"

"Nope."

The Gryffindor glared. "I hate you."

"Yeah, I hate me too sometimes. Now let's go."

Harry stared at the other boy for a long moment. Sighing in resignation, he said, "Fine. Just give me a second." Then he turned around and grabbed his jeans, sweater (a red one this time) and shoes from earlier that day, slipping them on quickly. Draco had to agree with Raven, that seeing Potter down to his knickers and shirt wasn't all that bad a sight. Not that he'd admit it to anyone, of course. He wasn't gay, and he wasn't going to start now, even for this bet. And that's all it was: a bet. Just because he was going to eventually have sex with the bastard, didn't mean he would become gay. Or bi. Or _anything_ other than _straight_. Yeah. That's it, Draco. Welcome to the Land of Delusional Denial.

As soon as he was ready, Harry grabbed his wand and slipped it in his pocket. "I'll meet you downstairs," he whispered to the Slytherin, who was still hovering in the window frame.

"And take the chance of waking anyone else up? I don't think so. Come over here to the ledge, and I'll levitate us down."

Harry gave him an incredulous look. "Are you completely mad?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Some have thought so." Then he floated away from the window. "C'mon. I promise I won't drop you."

Harry still looked hesitant, but stepped forward anyway. Taking a rather huge leap of faith, he climbed up on the stone ledge of the large cottage and perched there, looking down. He had never been afraid of heights before; he was one of the world's greatest Seekers, for crying out loud. (And really, it was only about twelve feet down.) But he usually had a broom beneath him, not a prickly-looking bush. He chanced a quickly look at Malfoy, who hovered a few feet away, the patented smirk in place.

The blonde reached out his hand, palm up, at made a beckoning gesture. Harry felt a strange pull at his solar plexus, and suddenly, he was moving forward, away from the window frame and into the air. He held in another yelp of surprise, and immediately held out his arms for balance, but he didn't need to. Malfoy had complete control over his body's balance.

"Relax, Potter. Or I might actually drop us." Harry looked at him, startled, and saw a genuine look of concentration on Malfoy's face. So Harry stopped struggling, and tried to move his body into the same position as Malfoy's: cross-legged, but found that trying to sit cross-legged when you don't have anything under you was hard, so he stayed in his crouched position.

Slowly, the two boys floated down onto the grass. Malfoy let the boys down gently, and released his magical hold on them after he made sure Harry wasn't going to fall on his arse as soon as he did. Both Harry and Draco let out a breath they were holding when the magic was released.

As Harry stood he said, "You've never done that before, have you? Levitated two fully-grown people at once?" He tone was awed accusation.

Malfoy looked up at him. "No, actually, I haven't. In fact, I think that was the most wandless magic I've ever performed at one time."

Harry's look darkened. "That was rather dangerous, Malfoy."

The smirk was back. "I know. That's the thrill of it." Then the Adonis stood, brushing off his black trousers. He was also wearing a high-necked black sweater, both of which blended into the dark night, but accented his pale features. The moon made his hair glow like a small halo around his head. "Come on. If we don't hurry, we'll miss it." Then he turned and started walking into woods behind the dorms. The entire town was encased in woods, it seemed.

"What will we miss, exactly? Where are we going?" Harry asked, hurrying to catch up.

"The sea." Was the only answer he received.

They walked for a few more minutes, going deeper into the woods. Because the leaves on the trees had not yet begun to fall, the farther they went, the darker and colder it got. Harry shivered slightly, keeping a few steps behind the other man. Draco walked with a sense of purpose, like he had walked this path a million times before, never breaking his stride.

"Malfoy?"

"Yeah, Potter?"

"Um…isn't the sea west of here? We're going north, aren't we?"

"Actually, it bends in up here a bit. There's a little cove. That's where we're going."

"Oh."

They walked another five minutes, and then the trees started thinning out. Harry could see the moonlight filtering through the trees again. Then Malfoy suddenly stopped, and Harry almost ran into him.

"Malfoy, wha-"

"Shush!" Malfoy whispered, turning slightly and placing a hand over Harry's mouth. Harry's senses were suddenly hit with Malfoy's distinct smell, something spicy and soft all at the same time. Then Malfoy removed his hand and moved forward a step, shifting his weight slightly. Harry could barely see it, but it seemed as though Malfoy's bright eyes were darting around, looking for something. He pulled out his wand from his sleeve, and when Harry saw this, he slipped his own out as well.

There was a snapping sound off to the right, and Harry's senses were suddenly keen on the area, searching with his eyes, ears, and magic. Reaching out with his magic slightly, he felt around the area, sensing for anything strange. This was a skill that he had learned during the war. When he found what he was looking for, he muttered, "It's nothing, Malfoy. Only a badger."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very."

The Slytherin relaxed slightly. "Good. You still can't be too sure these days."

"I agree."

They shared a look for a moment, and then moved on, both of them putting their wands away. After a minute, the trees finally broke, and Harry found himself looking out over a large cove. He and Malfoy were standing on the rocky cliff above, and from where he was standing; he could see the water lapping the small strip of sand below. The rocks around the cove almost completely encased the area; Harry didn't even think a boat would be able to get in from the Irish Sea. The moonbeams were still partially blocked by the trees and the cliff, but the view was still quite spectacular.

"Malfoy…this is…"

"Shh…" Malfoy said. "It's about to start."

Harry looked out into the cove, just as the moonlight fully hit the area, reflecting off of the water and illuminating everything in pale light. Slowly, as Harry watched, small coloured lights glowed into being around the cove and moved away from the rocky walls from whence they came.

Harry watched in awe as the little lights started dancing to this enchanted music that seemed to fill the cove. Harry wasn't even sure he was actually hearing it; it seemed to be a accumulation of the natural sounds around them; the lapping of the water, and rustling of the breeze through the trees; and some tranquil tinkling the multi coloured lights seemed to be giving off.

The two young men stood there entranced by the dance of lights going on below them. Neither dared to breathe, let alone talk, for fear of alerting the enchanted lights of their presence. The lights kept up their dance, changing with the alteration of the sounds around them. After about a half an hour of standing there, Malfoy moved, ever so slowly, taking Harry's hand in his and leading him back into the woods.

Once they were about five minutes away, Harry finally realised that Malfoy's hand was still in his, so he squeezed it slightly and stopped walking. "Malfoy?"

The blonde turned around and looked at Harry. "Yes, Potter?"

"I…" He paused, unsure of what to say, or how to say it. "Why did you bring me here?"

The genuine smile that graced the Slytherin's lips surprised Harry. As did his answer. "Because I thought you'd like it."

"How…how did you know it was here?"

"I take walks sometimes, when my nightmares wake me. I've stayed up all night, watching them. It's never the same. They leave when the moonlight is no longer flooding the cove."

"What are they?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.

"I'm not sure. I think they may be fairies of some sort."

"Oh."

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other in the darkened forest. Then Malfoy asked in a soft voice, "Would you like to continue? I'm afraid the cold is starting to get to me."

"Oh! Oh yeah. Let's keep going." Then Malfoy turned around and started walking again, still holding onto Harry's hand.

They reached the back of Dormitory One with no more interruptions, and in complete silence. Only once they were standing next to the wall of the cottage, underneath Harry's window, did they stop and look at each other again.

"I…" Harry started. "I'm not sure what's changed about you Malfoy, or why you seem to have this sudden urge to be nice to me, and talk to me…but thanks. It was…beautiful, what you showed me tonight. Thank you for sharing it with me." He felt his cheeks heat up a bit, and he looked down.

"You're welcome, Potter. Think of it as an apology. For what I said yesterday. You're the only one I've shown. Not even Raven knows about them."

"I…oh." Was all Harry could seem to say. _Oh, that was brilliant, Potter._

Malfoy suddenly released his hand, stepping back. "Goodnight, Potter."

"Er…goodnight, Malfoy." Then the bright-haired boy turned around and walked away into the night, heading for his own dormitory, two buildings around the circle. Harry stood there for a moment, at a loss of words, emotions, anything really. What was he supposed to think? All he knew was that Malfoy was acting very odd these last two days, and that one of the most pleasant experiences he's ever had in his life had been shared with the Adonis by his side.

Shaking himself from his confused thoughts, he looked up to his window. "_Damn,_" he muttered. Sitting cross-legged on the grass, he used his wandless magic to levitate himself back to his open window. Crawling inside, he realised just how chilly it was in the room, so he quickly shut the window and cast a temporary warming charm on the room, seeing as the bedrooms didn't have fireplaces.

Shucking off his pants and shoes, but keeping on his sweater, he slipped some pyjama pants on and climbed back into bed. His dreams were filled with enchanted lights that sung and twinkled like stars, and the enticing smell of spicy softness.

* * *

CALLING ALL BETAS! 

I need a beta for my fanfiction. So…if any of you would like to be my beta, just e-mail me (it's on my user page) and perhaps attach a sample of your work. I'm mainly looking for someone to give me input. I can do grammar and spelling on my own. If you think you can give me helpful input on how it's going, how it sounds and also any story ideas, please let me know. Thanks.

_A/N: It might be a while before I can update…I'm doing this one a d the Seattle Public Library, and I'm also starting a new job, so I'll be a little busy. But I'll try to finally get internet in my dorm room…so we won't have this problem any more. :D_

Reviewers:

**Neko, Path Walker, liulover and Eva:** Thank you all so much for reviewing!

**Twodollartrick: **I love it when you review. And I like your stories…what I've been able to read of them.  And I'm glad you like Raven, as usual. And as far as the kinky-sex thing goes…we'll see. Probably for the NC-17 version…Oh, and yes, I'm female.

**Tom Felton's Bitch: **To be honest…I haven't thought that far ahead. Well, I have, a little. This story just seemed to have leaped out of me…so there was really no prior planning involved. If there is any D/H/R action, I hope that doesn't put you off. This isn't really a story about how much Harry and Draco can have sex…it's more about emotions and adults dealing with them, with a whole lot of sexual tension thrown in. So, things will get hot and heavy…but with who exactly…I'm still trying to figure out what would be best.

**Gwaeren: **Yay! Someone's addicted to my story! Mwahahaha! Ok. Sorry. Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad you like it. And don't worry about the updating…I think we're all hypocritical at times…

**QUICK UPDATE! It may be a while until I update...because I need a beta. And I'm going no furthur until I have one. So, sorry if that sucks, but it needs to be done. If you want it to go faster, apply for my beta position. :D**


	4. Slytherin Propostions and Gryffindor Sch

**Chapter Notes: **_Hey all! For this chapter, I just want to thank my new (and first) beta, EVA! Everyone all clap for her. Send her chocolate. Or cookies. She deserves it. :D She helped me get this chapter out in a timely fashion, and without her, I'd be lost. I love you, Eva!_

Now, on with the show!

* * *

**The Bet**

**Chapter IV - Slytherin Propositions and Gryffindor Schemes**

* * *

_20 September 2003_

_Ok. I've done it. I've taken the first step to getting Potter to like me. I took him to the cove._

_I'm not sure why I thought there might be the right place, but it doesn't matter now. It worked._

_And part of me wonders why I decided to share such a personal place with the one person I think I've always hated more than anyone…but to be honest, it just felt right._

_And it was 'romantic,' and that's what it was supposed to be. Romantic and full of wonder._

_Bloody hell, somebody cast Avada Kedavra on me. I sound like a lovesick Hufflepuff._

_Potter may not realise it, but everything about last night was planned. The levitating (to build his trust), the hand holding (to make him feel more comfortable around me)…everything was planned…except the badger. But I can almost take comfort in the fact that I'm not the only one who is still paranoid about some things. I wonder if Potter learned that trick during the war to make him super aware of his surroundings. I've heard about that sort of thing. Channelling your magic…but I've never seen anyone do it before. Not that I could 'see' much, but I did sort of feel something pressing against me. Against my magic. That must have been Potter._

_Now for the rest of Plan B. Slowly make Potter fall for me. Stay just out of his reach. Make him want me so bad that he'll do anything in his power to have me. Then all I have to do is fake it. Like I've been doing._

* * *

Harry stood on the small porch in front of Dormitory Four with his hands shoved in his pockets. He was nervous and he didn't know why, but if he just kept standing there, doing nothing, someone was bound to think he'd gone mad. So he withdrew one of his hands from his pockets and knocked sharply on the old wooden door. 

A moment later, the door opened to an attractive strawberry blonde Harry recognised as ex-Ravenclaw Mandy Brocklehurst. She smiled prettily at him and said, "Hi Harry. What can I do for you? Do you need to see Luna?"

"Ah, no. Actually, I'm here for Raven. Is she around?"

Mandy gave him a slightly confused look. "Uh, sure. Let me just go get her. You can wait in here." She motioned him to step inside.

"Thanks."

Mandy nodded, and hopped up the stairs. Just as Harry was contemplating a wizard landscape painting of a very familiar-looking cove that was mounted in the entryway, Raven appeared. She was wearing a dark green jumper with silver accents and a long black skirt. Her hair was down from her usual high ponytail and she was barefoot.

"Potter," she smiled, "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to talk to you. About Malfoy."

She looked at him curiously and asked, "What about Draco?"

Harry frowned. "He's acting differently around me all of a sudden. I wanted to ask you about it. You are a close friend of his, right?"

She nodded in recognition. "Let's go for a walk."

Harry muttered under his breath something like, 'what is it with Slytherins and taking walks?'

"Excuse me?" Raven asked.

"Oh nothing. Just talking to myself." _Great, now I sound like I _am_ mad._

"Ok…" Raven arched a black eyebrow in confusion. "Shall we go?"

"Er, yeah. But don't you want some shoes?"

"No. I'm fine without them."

Harry lifted his eyebrows, but didn't comment. Instead, he opened the door and let Raven through first. Following her, he closed the door behind them and they started walking, Raven taking the lead. She led them behind Dormitories One and Two and into the woods, taking long strides and easily manoeuvring through the trees and fallen logs.

_Ok…what is it with Slytherins, taking walks, and taking walks through the woods?_ Harry thought to himself. _Or maybe it's just these two…they _are_ friends, after all._

Raven's voice broke through his thoughts. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Malfoy. Have you noticed anything off about him lately?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'off.' Draco's been known to have his moods every once and a while."

"Well…he's been…odd. Has he mentioned anything about me in the last few days?"

Raven stopped and turned to look at him. "No, not really. Why?"

"Well…he came over on Friday morning, wanting to talk to me. Do you know anything about that?"

Raven nodded and continued walking. "A little. He told me that he royally fucked it up, actually."

"Really? He said that?"

"Yeah. Does that surprise you?"

"Well, yeah, a little. I mean…I didn't realise that he cared, I guess."

"He does." Raven answered. "Although I don't think he realises it himself yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Harry, that the only reason he's been trying to talk to you is because of me. So, naturally, he'd chalk any feelings of 'caring' up to the fact that he's doing this for me."

"I'm not sure I follow…"

Raven stopped again, this time looking down at the dirt and leaves beneath her feet. "I like you, Harry. I like you a lot. Draco knows this, and he's trying to smooth things out between you two because of it. He wants me to be happy. He loves me."

Harry stood there in shock for a moment, his cheeks heating up. "I…I'm not sure what to say." He was quite flattered that she liked him, but wasn't sure if he should feel anything back. After all, he didn't know this girl all _that_ well.

The dark-haired girl looked up at him and smiled softly, her green eyes twinkling. "You don't have to say anything. It's not everyday you learn that a Slytherin likes you."

Harry chuckled nervously. "Yeah, it's not."

They continued walking in a some-what comfortable silence, Harry's thoughts running rampant through his head. He had so many questions, but where to start?

"Raven…"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You said Malfoy loves you…do you not love him back?"

"No, I do. He's my first love, actually. He always will be. And he's my best friend, too. In fact, although he jokes about it, I know he really wants to marry me."

"Really? Do-do you want to marry him?"

"Yes. I always have. Well, ever since our Death Eater initiation, anyway."

That sentence brought some rather unpleasant thoughts of the past to the fore of Harry's mind. "Oh."

"Harry, what you need to understand about me is that there are certain things I want in life. And being the Slytherin that I am, I'll do pretty much anything to get them. _You_ are one of those things. I want you. Even if just for a fleeting moment, or only as a friend. I want you to be a part of my life. I like surrounding myself with the world's beautiful things. I know it sounds selfish, but that's exactly what I am. I'm selfish. But I care. I genuinely care about you Harry. I haven't always, but I do now. I don't just want to use you and then step on your feelings, but I also know that the only man I will ever consider marrying is Draco."

Harry still wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't even sure what to feel. How are you supposed to feel when someone you hardly know says that they not only like you, but _want _you? And Harry wasn't so dim that he couldn't pick up on her meaning. When he didn't answer, Raven continued. "I know that may sound weird, that I love one man, and want to marry him, but I want another as well. I'm not sure how you feel about that, but I want you to remember one thing above all: that you're a wonderful and beautiful person, Harry. You will make someone very happy one day. And remember that many people care about you. You are not alone with your demons."

Harry stopped walking, staring at the back of the girl walking just ahead of him. That was something no one had ever told him before. That _he_ would make someone _else_ happy. She even recognised that he still had demons plaguing him. And that he didn't have to deal with them by himself. He subconsciously knew that other people had suffered just as terribly those short years ago, and that some were still dealing with it. But eventually, they all seemed to have moved on, or at least, not let it hinder them, and Harry felt that it was his duty to do the same. He hated it when people worried about him, so he made sure that they felt they had nothing to worry about. Raven was the first person to recognise that he was still dealing with it.

The girl in question turned around and smiled. She looked amazing, standing there, barefoot in the middle of the woods, the yellow and orange leaves falling down around her. Like she was a wood nymph, disguised in human clothing. She held out her hand and said, "Come, Harry. I want to show you something."

Mentally shaking himself away from his thoughts, he stepped forward to close the gap between them, taking her slim hand in his. Together, they continued to walk in silence, enjoying the afternoon sun filtering through the trees, the sounds of the forest, and the presence of each other. Harry felt the differences in the woods from the night before. It was a completely different entity during the day, but he liked it just the same. It was peaceful. Something he needed, to nullify his whirling thoughts.

Soon, they arrived at the same cove from last night. "Here," Raven said. "This is what I wanted to show you. Isn't it beautiful?"

Harry looked at the familiar place in awe. It looked like a small paradise during the day. Harry could now see a very narrow path that wound around the stony cliff, down onto the sand. The sun shone brightly, and the water lapped gently against the strip of beach forty yards below. The sun sparkled off of the water, casting strange reflections on the surrounding rock. It was just as spectacular as the night before, but in a different way. Finally, after re-surveying the area, he chuckled.

"What?" Raven asked.

"Its just…Malfoy took me here last night. To apologise for the other morning, he said."

"Oh? I didn't know Draco knew of this place. Did you know of it before he brought you here?"

"No. But now that you mention it…I saw a painting similar to this in your foyer. Do you know who painted it?"

Raven looked down into the cove, smiling shyly. "Yes."

"Who?"

"Me."

"Really?" Harry looked at her in disbelief.

"Yes."

"Wow. It…wow. That's really brilliant, Raven. I'm sure I could never do anything like that."

"Thank you, Harry. I'm glad you like it."

"Do you have anymore? Paintings, I mean."

"A few. Draco has some. But nothing recent that's worth putting up yet."

"What are they of?"

"Well, I'm better at doing landscapes…impressionist kind of stuff. But right now, I'm working on realism. With people. I can seem to draw them alright, but when I go to paint them, it never works out."

"Anyone I know?" Harry joked. He was amazed at how easy it was to talk to this girl. The only girls besides her that he'd really been able to just _talk_ with were Hermione, Ginny, and Luna. And they were more like sisters than anything else.

"Yes, actually."

Harry wasn't expecting this answer. "Who?" He asked, really wanting to know the response.

"Draco. And Daphne and Theo and Blaise." There was a small pause. "You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. But…none of the portraits I've been working on are turning out right. I think it's because I'm trying to do it all from memory."

"You don't have any pictures to go off of?"

"No. And besides, pictures move too much. I almost wish I had a muggle camera, so I could take unmoving shots."

"Colin told me-" Harry cut himself off suddenly. Colin Creevey was dead. He had been for four years. Harry was pulled back from his rapidly depressing downward spiral of thoughts by a reassuring squeeze on his left hand. Looking up, he saw Raven's understanding smile. He had forgotten that they were still holding hands. Nodding, he continued on.

"Colin told me once that it was all in the developing solution. His brother Dennis might know something about it. But I'm sure if you took pictures and had them developed at a muggle shop, they'd turn out unmoving."

"Really? Hmm…I might have to try that. As much as it'd be against my inherent Slytherin nature…"

Harry laughed. "Oh yes, we can't have you Slytherins ruining your slimy reputations, now can we? Although I'm sure consorting with _Harry_ _Potter_ has already knocked you _and_ Malfoy down a few pegs."

"Hey! We strive very hard to keep up those reputations, and I'll ask you kindly to not insult them." Raven said in mock anger.

In a gesture that he didn't give himself time to second-guess; Harry brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it lightly. "I wouldn't dream of it."

They stared at each other a moment, both unsure of the tension in the air, before Raven finally said, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you…would you like…I mean, would you mind modelling for me? For my paintings of you?"

"I…I don't know. I've never had to model before. But I suppose it'd be better than getting my picture taken. Less risk of it being plastered all over the press."

Raven smiled. "Yes, that would be a perk."

Harry suddenly thought of something. "Its not…I mean, I'm not…I won't need to be…_naked_ will I?" His cheeks flushed and he looked away, realising that he'd never need to worry about the circulation in his face again. With all the blushing he'd been doing lately, he was surprised his cheeks weren't permanently red.

Now it was Raven's turn to laugh. "Not unless you want to, Harry. Although it would be a great figure study if you'd let me. I could do it in such a way that you weren't revealing anything. Even your face. I'm sure I could even get some muggle paint too, so you wouldn't be afraid of a nude you turning around on the canvas and exposing yourself. Although I'm sure even a painting of you would be too shy to do that." She smiled in a playful manner.

Harry blushed again and said, "Well…I'll have to think about it."

"I would pay you for your time, of course." But she said it in a tone that stated a simple fact between model and artist.

Harry shook his head. "No. Keep your money. I have more than enough."

They stood there a moment longer, looking out at the cove. Raven eventually said, in a soft tone, "Do you want to head back?"

"Sure."

They turned around and slowly walked back to the dorms, still holding hands.

* * *

Once inside his dorm house, Harry barely had time to slip his shoes off before he was bombarded by the sight of Hermione, who was suddenly right in front of him. She had been visiting Ron and Neville, and had seen Harry coming home through the lounge room window, which was facing the courtyard. 

"Harry!" She exclaimed brightly, a huge smile on her face. "Who was that you were just with?"

"Huh?" He asked stupidly. Looking over the top of Hermione's braided head, and into the lounge that was off to the left of the foyer, he saw Ron standing near the open lounge entryway, a secretive grin on his face. Neville was sitting on one of the chairs, looking at the two curiously. Ron was as tall as ever, but had filled his gangly form a bit in the last few years. Neville was still a little round in the face, but he had grown as well. Harry was taller, muscular, and still lean. But by no means was he that scrawny little boy anymore.

"_That girl,_" Hermione pressed, "That you were holding hands with. Who is she? She must be a Ravenclaw…we saw you drop her off at Dormitory Four…" Hermione babbled.

"Er…" Harry stuttered.

"Finally got yourself a girlfriend, mate. I'm proud of you." Ron said, coming forward and clapping him on the shoulder.

"Oh! No. We're not…she's not…we're just friends," Harry managed to get out.

"'Just friends,' huh?" Hermione said in a suggestive tone. "Last time I checked, 'just friends' didn't hold hands like that. Now who is she? It looked like it might have been Su Li, but Orla has dark hair too…it was kind of hard to tell from here…"

"Ah…no. It was Raven."

"Raven?" Ron said quizzically. "You mean, _Slytherin_ Raven?"

Harry put his hands on his hips. "How many Ravens do we know that go to this school and live in Number Four, Ron?" He then turned and moved into the kitchen. Hermione and Ron shared a look before following Harry. Neville, out of pure curiosity, followed him as well.

Harry was taking a box of biscuits out of the cupboard when they all arrived. "What?" Harry said as they all just stood there, staring at him with stupefied expressions.

"Harry…mate…please don't tell me you're dating a Slytherin…" Ron said in a pleading tone.

"Ron," Harry said forcefully, as he went to pour himself a glass of milk, "I already told you, we're _not_ dating. In fact, that's the first time I've ever really talked to her. Now, will you all please just let me eat my cookies in peace?"

"No," Hermione said, still curious as a cat. "It doesn't make sense. If you just started talking with her, Harry, why were you holding hands?"

"I…" Harry searched for a way to explain this. "I don't know how to explain," he finally said.

"Please try, Harry."

"You can't just expect us to ignore this, Harry," Ron put in. "I mean…I know we're not in Hogwarts anymore, but-"

"You're right, Ron," Harry interrupted. "We're _not_ in Hogwarts anymore. Therefore, I feel no need to keep up old prejudices, especially after all that the Slytherins, specifically Raven, Malfoy and Zabini, have done to make up for their _realised_ ill actions during the war. I'm just tired of it all. Is peace between everyone so much to ask for?" And with that, he grabbed his box of biscuits and his glass of milk and stormed upstairs.

The three ex-Gryffindors stood there in mild shock. Finally, Hermione said, "He's right, Ron. We still treat them like we did at Hogwarts. We're adults now. They've done all they can to prove to us that they realised that the choice they made was wrong."

"Yes, but…it's not like they act any nicer to us!"

"They're still Slytherins, Ron, what to you expect? Use your head. It's not like they've done anything to make life horrible for us, either. They generally just leave us alone."

"So why does it have to change?" Ron's voice sounded like he knew he was fighting a battle he'd already lost.

"If you don't want it to change for you, then don't talk to them. But I think it would be best if we just let Harry do what he wants to do. We all know that he's had more than enough of others dictating what he should do in his life."

Neville finally spoke in the silence that followed Hermione's definitive sermon. "I agree. I think Harry's just tired of everyone always worrying about him. If he wants to talk to Raven, I don't see why he can't. I have her in one of my classes, and she seems like a nice girl."

"See?" Hermione said to Ron.

The redhead sighed and shrugged. "Yeah. I suppose."

Then Hermione smiled. "Good. But to be honest…I'm still curious as to _why_ Harry and Raven were holding hands…" An uncharacteristic and mischievous smile crept up on her face.

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Ron said, raising an eyebrow.

Neville seemed to have caught on though. "You want to get them together, don't you?"

Hermione nodded. "This might be just the thing…" she murmured.

Ron, realising what was going through his fiancé's head said, "But what was that you just said about letting Harry 'do what he wants to do?' And I thought Raven was with Malfoy, actually…" He added as an afterthought.

A frown appeared on Hermione's face. "Oh, yeah. I hadn't thought of that. But wouldn't it be odd for her to be walking around holding hands with Harry if she was with Malfoy? In broad daylight? I don't think Malfoy's the type to share. Especially with Harry."

"We'll just have to ask her," Neville put in. "I can pass her a note in class."

"Ooh, that's brilliant, Neville!" Hermione said.

"Wait a minute, guys," Ron said, putting up his hands. "What about Harry here? You just ignored my earlier question about leaving him be…"

Hermione smirked. "Well, I don't see the harm in _nudging_ them a little…or at least finding out the nature of their relationship. Besides, Ronald, I'm the level-headed one in this group, what gave you the sudden urge to make sure we're not just running in there, guns blazing?"

"What?"

"Never mind. Muggle saying. Anyways, what's gotten into you all of a sudden?" She asked, hands on her shapely hips and a scrutinising look on her pretty face.

"I…I don't know. I guess…you're _not_ really being level-headed, so I thought I oughta step in."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Ronald Weasley!" she exclaimed in a surprised voice, and then she smiled evilly. "You better run."

With a strangled little yelp, Ron took off running up the stairs, trying to keep out of his fiancé's grip. Hermione laughed, and followed close behind.

Neville smiled at the happy couple. "I think I'm going to go see Luna." And with that, Neville took the little trip around the courtyard to see what his girlfriend was up to.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry about the lack of Draco in this one, guys. I promise, there's LOTS of him in the next chapter._

Reviews: I'm only going to do individual responses for those of you who ask a question, or say something for me to respond individually to. Otherwise, review responses would be as long as a chapter!

**Luilover, Amy Shadows, Tom Felton's Bitch, Lo26, Slash-lover, HPDM-Slash-Rocks: **Thank you all for reviewing. It means a lot to me, and I'm glad you like it. :D

**Addmoose2004:** First of all, I am SO sorry for forgetting to respond to your review last update. I realised it a bit too late, and haven't really had any time online to fix it. I hope you can forgive me! And thank you so much for reviewing again!

**Twodollartrick:** Could you imagine if JKR finished of HP like that? I mean, I'd think it'd be _awesome_, but knowing the press…think of the uproar! Do you think the actors would pull out of the roles if the series ended that way? Lol God, I hope not. I wonder if she'd make more money with or without Draco/Harry stuff? And I know she knows about fanfiction…she's mentioned it on her site…I wonder if she really _knows_ about it though…:P

Yeah, I love Raven too. She's like that little part of me I never get to explore…lol Well, thanks again for reviewing. I REALLY REALLY look forward to your reviews. They make my day. Kisses and Huggles, Jordon! Love ya!

**Volupta:**Don't worry about the English thing. I could understand you just fine. :D I'm glad you like it…I'll see what I can do on your preferences though…I'm a little lost as to how I'm going to wrap the whole thing up and make everyone (the characters and the reviewers) happy.

**Sheyda:** Is Raven unbelievable in a "I think she's awesome,"/ "I can't believe she did that!" kind of way, or in "She's not a believable character," kind of way. ;) Thanks for reading, I'm glad you love it. Hopefully, it will only continue to get better…

I love you all, thank you for reading!

The Next Chapter: Slow and Steady Wins the Race


	5. Slow and Steady Wins the Race

**Chapter Notes: **_Hey all! For this chapter, I (again) just want to thank my beta, **EVA! **Everyone all clap for her. Send her chocolate. Or cookies. She deserves it. :D She helped me get this chapter out in a timely fashion, and without her, I'd be lost. I love you, Eva! And **Jordan**…you really make my day, Love. And I only hope to always have you're kind words in my ear…no matter what I'm doing._

_Oh, and by the way…I hope you like this chapter. The melancholy was mixed with my rather overzealous wit at times. :D I hope it doesn't detract from the message. Laughter is always a good thing to have in life, no matter what's going wrong._

Now, on with the show!

* * *

**The Bet**

**Chapter V – Slow and Steady Wins the Race**

* * *

Harry nearly slammed the door to his room the second he got in there. _What's their problem? Am I not allowed to talk to who I want to anymore? God, if they knew about Malfoy…they'd think I'd gone insane. I can hear Ron now: 'Going out to the middle of the woods in the middle of the night with _Malfoy?_ Harry, have you gone mad? He could have killed you!' Although Seamus knows…about the first time, anyway. I wonder why he hasn't told anyone…_

Setting his glass of milk and box of cookies down on his desk, he flopped back onto his bed, sighing. He realised idly that he had never taken his denim jacket off. Oh well. Then his mind wandered back to his original thoughts. _Why haven't _I_ told anyone? Well, except Raven of course, although she already knew part of it. Which is good enough for me right now. At least I'm not worried about her blowing the whole thing out of proportion._ Sitting back up, he grabbed his afternoon snack and dug in, making sure his cookies were sufficiently dunked in the milk before popping them into his mouth.

_I suppose I just want a secret of my own. A happy secret. Not like the one about my nightmares and demons. Although Raven and Malfoy sort of know about that too. Even the only happy thing I've heard today, Malfoy knows about. Someone out there likes me. Wants me. And thinks _I'll_ make someone _else_ really happy. _Harry sighed._ She's really nice. And pretty._

_And she loves Malfoy. Its too bad it can't be her I make happy._

Harry suppressed a slight shudder. _I mean, I understand that they're really close, but why Malfoy? He's such an arse._

_Even after that little trip through the woods last night?_ Taunted Harry's 'other' mental voice.

_Shut up,_ he told it back.

Harry was finishing off his biscuits when he heard Ron and Hermione's laughter coming up the stairs, into the hallway and then into Ron's (and Neville's) room, where it was muffled by the door closing. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what they were about to do. Feeling even more depressed, Harry went downstairs, threw away his trash and washed out his glass, then proceeded to go back outside.

_Am I not allowed to be happy? It really seems like everyone else is…so why can't I? What am I missing?_ Harry thought hard for a minute, looking at the differences between everyone he knew that seemed happy. The most definitive factor was that most of everyone he thought of…_had someone._ And he didn't. Ron and Hermione, Luna and Neville, Seamus and Ginny, Susan and Owen…Raven and...Malfoy. They all had each other. _Besides the fact that I'm still dealing with the effect the war's had on me, there should be nothing in my way. But who can help me be happy? I thought for a minute that I could maybe be happy with Raven, but she's dead set on marrying Malfoy. But she still wants me, she said. What does that mean? Does she want to keep me as a lover or something? Could I live with that? Just to get laid?_ Maybe. _Can I be second to Malfoy?_ It didn't take long to answer that last question. _No. I need something for myself. That is all my own._

Harry finally arrived at the place his feet automatically took him when he needed to think. It was where he'd gone to after giving Malfoy that death threat Friday morning. The beach. Down past the school, and at the bottom of the cliff, there was a long, narrow strip of sand, surrounded by sharp rocks. Not many came down here, for fear of being trapped between the rocks and the water when the tide went up. And no one went into the water; it was freezing even in the middle of the summer. But Harry had naturally worked out a little path down there ever since he had arrived in Rookwood. It was his special place to think, kind of like Malfoy's place at the cove. When the tide was high, there was a little out cropping of rock that Harry sat on, otherwise, he would shuck off his socks and shoes and go either sit or walk in the sand, like he was doing today. The crashing of the waves further around the bend was soothing, as was the cool water on his feet. Walking down the beach, he let memories from earlier that day come back to him.

The trip back from the cove with Raven had been made in silence, which suited Harry just fine. He realised that it was really nice, just walking around with someone, not feeling the need to fill the silence. He had never been all that confident around girls, but Raven made him feel really at ease, even though he knew she liked him in _that _way. He really liked just being able to hold hands and have companionship. Companionship wasn't something he felt all that often anymore. He had changed too much.

But again, ultimately, it was elusive. He wasn't meant to keep Raven's feelings or her companionship to himself, and that not only made him feel quite lonely again, but it made him angry. If it wasn't dark lords, it was something simple like love that got in the way of him having a normal life. Harry realised that love wasn't really all _that_ simple, but it seemed so easy for everyone else to find, so why couldn't he? Even _Malfoy_ of all people found love. So Harry came up with the only conclusion he could in his current state of mind:

Life _sucked. _And he was_ never _getting laid.

* * *

Draco walked up the porch steps and straight through the door, not bothering to knock. He was a man on a mission. Stalking up the stairs, he reached the landing, scaring a towel-clad Tracy Davis, who had just come out of the bathroom after her evening shower. 

"Draco!" She shrieked. "You can't just come barging up here! This is the _girls'_ dorm."

"Shove off, Tracy. I need to see Raven."

The door next to Draco opened up, and the girl in question appeared. "Hey Dray, baby. What's up?"

"Don't you 'baby' me, you little slut. What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Draco spat, his grey eyes flashing silver.

"Excuse me?" Raven looked rather startled.

"What was that with you and Potter?" Draco repeated.

Understanding sparked in Raven's eyes. "Draco," she said calmly. "Let's go over to your place to talk about this. Daphne's trying to study, and it'd be better if we were alone. I'll go get my shoes." Draco only scowled menacingly at her.

"Fine. But hurry it up." And he turned around and stalked back down the stairs.

Raven shot Tracy an apologetic look. "Sorry, Trace. I'll try to make sure he doesn't do it again, but you know how he is."

"Just keep your lover's quarrels away from me, alright, Rae? You two get right nasty when you fight."

"Sorry. Look, I'll be back in a bit, hopefully. If I'm not, I'll see you in class tomorrow." With Tracy's nod, Raven ducked back into her room and grabbed a pair of clogs. "See you later, Daph." Raven called as she quickly went down the stairs to a still-fuming Draco, who was waiting in the foyer.

Silently, she followed him out the door and to the next dormitory over, Number Three. The two quickly walked up stairs and into his private bedroom, where he slammed the door behind her, locked it, and placed a silencing charm on the room. Whirling on her, he opened his mouth to re-start his interrogation, but was cut off by the warm hug that enveloped him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, annoyance and anger in his tone.

"Hugging you," came the reply from somewhere in his neck.

"I can see that, but you _do_ realise that you are in a ridiculous amount of trouble, and that hugging me is _not_ going to help you?"

"Yeah, I know."

Draco sighed. "What happened, Raven? Someone told me they saw you holding hands with Potter earlier today. Are you taking matters into your own hands? Did I not _seduce_ him fast enough for you?" He said the last rather sarcastically.

Raven finally pulled back and looked up into Draco's grey eyes. "I'm not going to say I'm sorry, Dray. Because I'm not."

"But what _happened?_"

"Potter came to me today, to talk about you."

"About me?"

"Yes."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that the reason you were acting so strangely is because of me. Because I like him, and you want me to be happy."

"You lied?"

"No. I didn't lie. You know I like him. That I want both of you. I told you so. You want me to be happy. You've told me that, many times. So no, I didn't lie." She paused, and went to go sit down on Draco's black–draped bed. "And you _are_ talking to him, _and_ taking him out in the middle of the night," this was said with tone that implied that he'd be explaining that one in the near future, "because of me. You never would have done those things otherwise if I hadn't made the bet with you."

Draco frowned, feeling anger building inside of him again. "I'm not seeing where the hand holding is coming in. Did you guys kiss too?"

"What? No, of course not. The hand holding thing came in when he had stopped walking with me. So I turned around and offered my hand, to get him to continue. And he took it. And we just kept holding hands. I really don't think it meant anything like that."

"Raven, this is Potter we're talking about. He's probably sexually repressed enough as it is, and holding hands with him is probably like swearing your undying love for each other."

"Oh, Draco, stop being so melodramatic. It didn't feel that way at all between us. I think he was just happy to learn that someone cared about him. It was comfortable. Like we were old friends, or something."

"So your sure? Nothing weird is going on?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Draco sighed heavily, falling down on his back next to the girl. "What else did you guys talk about? I'm assuming you didn't talk about the bet."

"Then your assumption would be correct. We talked about my paintings, and a little about my feelings for him, but I'm not sure how he feels about it. He also thinks that although you love me, that because _I_ like him, you've been trying to patch things up with him for my sake."

"Well, isn't that part of what I'm doing? I mean, I'm doing this for you. So you'll be happy. It's not like I'm doing this for kicks. It's fucking Potter, for Merlin's sake."

"And you don't think you'll become happy in the process?"

"Not with Potter, no."

Raven shook her head in resignation. "Draco…stop jumping in, just watch."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"That you need to observe your prey, instead of just going in there without planning."

"_What?_" He sounded affronted. "I _have_ been planning. Everything I've done has had a plan to go with it."

"Perhaps. But you don't think I started liking Potter overnight did you? It's not just physical attraction, Dray. Regardless of my sexual desires towards the Gryffindor, I've actually been watching him too. Trying to figure him out, watching his mannerisms, learning all I can about him."

"But _why?_" Draco sounded slightly disgusted and disturbed.

"Because I was curious. I never really paid much attention to him when we were at Hogwarts, in our later years, I mean; and you two were two years ahead of me anyway. I wanted to know about the boy who saved the world. So I watched."

"You're obsessed. Why didn't I see it before?" He mumbled to himself.

"Maybe I am. But Potter's not the only thing I'm obsessed about." Her tone was slightly suggestive.

Draco lifted his head off of the bed slightly. "What else is there I should know about?"

"Why, Dray, you're not up to your usual narcissistic self lately."

"What does that mean?"

Raven kicked off her clogs and turned around on the bed, climbing on top of Draco and straddling his hips. "I'm obsessed with you, of course." She said lightly, kissing him on the nose.

Draco's breath hitched when Raven had climbed on top of him, and his eyes widened as she spoke. After the quick peck on the nose, the air suddenly had a heavy quality to it as the two enamoured Slytherins looked at each other. Slowly, Draco lifted a hand and brushed her cheek with his fingertips.

"I love you, Raven. I really do."

She smiled softly at him. "I love you too, Draco."

With an unspoken agreement, and after all their years of bantering, they were finally going to take the next step in their relationship.

Raven dipped her head down, just as Draco tilted his up, and their lips met halfway. It was soft and tentative, just as unsure as twelve-year-olds, but so full of love and passion that it seemed like all those years spent waiting for each other was worth it. Their kissing quickly escalated, becoming hungry and feverous, testimony to their repressed sexual drives, and soon they were clutching at clothing, trying to rid themselves of the offensive material. Both of their shirts were gone, and Draco was working on Raven's bra when she pulled back, stopping him and moving to sit beside him.

"No…not yet. We need to stop." Her lips were swollen red and her cheeks were just as flushed as Draco's, who was trying to ignore his sudden raging hard-on at seeing her so debauched.

Draco sat up. "What?" He was breathlessly confused. "Why?"

"Because…it's not the right time."

"What do you mean? It's not like you're about to lose your virginity. I believe Malcolm Baddock already had that privilege." Draco was getting annoyed. _What is going on?_

Raven almost smiled at Draco's guess of the problem, but quickly sobered. "No," she said. "The bet." This was said quietly, but it rang in Draco's ears as if she had shouted it.

His look darkened. "The bet? _The_ _bet?_ You're worried about…" he trailed off. Suddenly, he exploded in anger, his eyes flaring. "FUCK THE BET, Raven! I don't want to finish what I've started with Potter. I don't fucking care! I love you! I want to be with you! Is that so much to ask?" He stood and walked over to his door, standing there for a minute before punching it in another sudden rage.

Whirling back around he said, "I think it's apparent that that's not what you want though. It's gotta fuckin' involve Potter. Well, _fuck_ Potter. He's not good enough for you. He's not worth it." Draco went back to Raven and took a hold of her upper arms. "Forget him. Please. Just be with me." He was now looking at her pleadingly.

But Raven just shook her head, and Draco's heart fell. Placing a hand on his cheek and giving him a kiss she said, "I love you, Dray. So much. But…it's more complicated than that. I can't just forget Potter. It's too important. Please, continue what you've started. It's really important that you do. It's not just about me. It's about him. He needs it, Dray. He does. And you'll realise that too, soon enough."

Draco was more confused than ever. "Raven, Love, I don't understand. Why does he need it? Can't you tell me?"

Raven looked like she was about to explain, then seemed to think better of it. "No. I'm sorry, Dray. But I think it would be better for you, for all three of us, if you figured it out on your own."

But Draco still wasn't giving up so easily. "So why did you start something? Why kiss me? If you knew it wasn't going to go where _I know_ we both want it to go, why bother? We've both known that we've wanted something more for a while now, but if you still wanted to wait…" his voice was about to break and so he trailed off, looking away.

"I…" Raven took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Dray, really. I guess…I let my hormones take over for a second." The hurt on Draco's face and in his eyes was absolutely unbearable for Raven to see. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him. "Draco," She said, as she lifted his chin to look directly in his eyes. "I'm not afraid of taking our relationship to the next level. I just don't think now is a good time to have sex. I'm happy just being closer to you."

Draco sighed and pulled Raven into a hug. "So am I. I've wanted to kiss you for so long…I just…I think we had _both_ let it take over. We've both waited…"

"…So let's not screw it up, by rushing it." Raven finished. "We have our whole lifetimes together." She pulled back out of his embrace. "We've been given a second chance, Dray. A second chance to explore life and have fun. Let's experience as much as we can." She smiled and received one back, although his was more of a smirk at the end.

"And I suppose stealing Potter's virginity will be part of those experiences?"

Raven grinned mischievously. "Ah…I see your perceptivity about my motivations is reaching new heights. I'll have to remember to be more careful in the future. And yes, Potter is one of those experiences. But like I said, there are other factors that came into play too."

"And you're really not going to tell me?"

"Nope, sorry. It's one of those things that would be better for you to discover on your own about our lovely little Gryffindor, rather than having me tell you. But really, you've already started realising it. You just need to keep watching."

Draco blew out some air. "Fine. I'll continue with our little game. But blimey, you are an elusive little bitch, aren't you?"

"I try my best."

"I'm sure you do. So," he said with a smirk on his face, "would you like to stay over tonight?"

Raven raised an eyebrow. "As long as all we're doing is sleeping."

"No snogging?" Draco said with a pout.

"_Of course_ we'll be snogging. I'm not a complete prude."

"So you're just saying that if it weren't for Potter, we'd be shagging like bunnies right now?"

"Draco!"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

Raven sighed. "Yes, sort of. I just don't want to rush things either. I thought we already went over this, you tit."

"We did, we did. Sorry. Just had to double check." They giggled softly and without words, decided to finish getting undressed, a bit more calmly this time and keeping their underwear on. Getting under the covers and snuggling in, their kissing continued, with a little bit of tentative touching, but soon exhaustion took over and they were content and peaceful to drift off into Morpheus.

* * *

_A/N: Ok, guys…flame away. ;D Throw the eggs and rotten tomatoes. C'mon. I know you want to…_

_I figure a whole bunch of you are right mad at me for that last little scene, but honestly…I'm not sorry about it. It had to happen, and there's more to come. I really can't please everyone with this story; I'm writing it for me. And Eva. And Jordan. lol Gosh, when did this start involving so many people? _

_But seriously, like I've said before, this is an exploration of human emotion and sexual desire. **Not **about how many times Draco and Harry can get it on. So. You can flame. You can rant. But it's not going to upset me, and it's not going to change my mind about how this story is going._

_But other than that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter…the next one, with more Harry/Draco goodness (to please the masses), should be up in about a week or so. :D_

**Reviews: I'm only going to do individual responses for those of you who ask a question, or say something for me to respond individually to. Otherwise, review responses would be as long as a chapter!**

**Luilover: **I'm glad you're liking the Harry/Raven thing! I like it too! Lol Which is probably why I'm writing it! Thanks for reviewing.

**Tonks: **Thanks for reviewing. And I'm not offended by you're views on things…I'm just glad you thought the plot was interesting enough to read! Thank you so much!

**Slash-lover: **Well, honestly, Harry wouldn't be Draco's 'prey' if it weren't for Raven, so… And she isn't moving in on him…she's had her eye there for a while…she's just…helping things along a bit. Yeah. And Hermione…well…hopefully she won't interfere…much. ;)

**Twodollartrick:** I love you! I really really do! (In that platonic, 'you're the awesomest guy ever', way…) I hope you got my review for your story under threedollartrick, I answered your question about the date thing. If not, go to the chapter notes at the beginning of chapter two…the date explanation should be in there, somewhere. If you still don't understand…I'll be sure to explain it in more detail, if you ask. :D

And I'm really glad you like Raven so much, and that you liked the little scene with the leaves and such in the woods. I thought that thing with the leaves added a nice touch, myself. I liked writing it though, regardless of how apprehensive I was about the reaction I would get.

Oh, yes. Love the Hermione. Lol She's always been fun to write, I'm not sure why. And yes, Draco is rather delusional, but it will take a bit of time to realise his true feelings, or rather, develop them. To him, he _is_ faking, he's always hated Harry, so why change now? Even because of a bet? But, trust me, it **will **happen.

Anyways, kisses and hugs to you! (And don't be afraid to tell me who you want Harry with! Like I've mentioned before, I've been writing this as I go, and it _can_ change...but I do already have ideas for the ending, so you might want to give me your suggestions, quick! I'd love to get an e-mail from you!)

**Volupta: **I'm glad you're starting to like Raven, she's one of my favourite characters. And I'm sorry all the relationships in the story are confusing...which ones? I'll be happy to explain as best I can…

**Sheyda:** I'm glad you like Raven…there's been mixed reviews on her…But I don't care! She's what's making everything happen…well, sorta. :D I'm really happy you like her so much. She's always been like the little part of me I've always wanted to explore, but never could. Damn social preconceptions! Society be damned! I'll be manipulative if I want to! And then I'll have no friends :( lol Anyway, thanks for reviewing!

**Avalon's Child and Skyla Gerdes: **Thank you both SO much for reviewing. And to answer both of your questions: Yes, there will be Draco/Harry slash, but there will be a little hetero in there as well. I'm sorry if that puts you off. Also…I can't guarantee ANY relationships at this point. It would be giving away the plot. But I do sincerely hope you both continue reading!

I love you all, thank you for reading!


	6. You Needed Me, and the Unknown Safety I ...

**Chapter Notes: **_I'm not sure I have anything to say about this chapter...I just hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_

**The Bet**

**Chapter VI - You Needed Me, and the Unknown Safety I Have in You

* * *

**

_22 September 2003_

_Now that I've had time to sleep on it…I've realised a few things._

_One: Although she can be entirely too aggravating for words, I love Raven so much it hurts sometimes._

_Two: Getting Potter to fuck me is almost easier than dealing with this woman._ _But it's too painful to think of losing her. She's been my only lifeline for too long now._

_Three: If I ever have to wake up without her in my bed again, I think I'll go insane._

_Yup. She slept over last night. Not that anything happened, much to my dismay, other than snogging and a little petting. She's not ready yet, she says. Which I secretly think is a bunch of bullocks._

_But at the same time, I understand why she doesn't just want to hop in the sack, either. We have the entire world to explore, and there's no reason to rush it. And she's right; we _have_ gotten a second chance at life. I can't imagine being where Goyle is right now…in Azkaban. It's unthinkable._

_So…we're going to have some fun. Which is where our inherent Slytherin sides come in. Her mischievousness is amazing. I'd say she could be so much worse than I ever was. And I think it's just because she lets her basic carnal desires steer her path, while I've always relied on my hatred for things, which, at least in the past, I thought was what made me happy. Seeing others suffer._

_But, of course, it didn't. Not for long, in any case. At least I'll be getting some kind of pleasure out of this. I'm scared to think that Potter will be the one to give it to me. Especially considering that I haven't had sex in…much too long. Waiting for the right moment with Raven has been…while not extremely frustrating, altogether tiring. I'm not sure my libido can take much more teasing._

_Raven keeps mentioning that there's something about Potter that I'm not seeing, or I've begun to, but I haven't realised it yet. Sometimes I worry about that girl's sanity. But I'll watch. I'll watch him, figure him out, then take what I need. Then Raven will be mine._

_Of course, all those delusions aside, I know it won't be that simple. I'm beginning to feel like Potter's only part of the picture. But although it seems like he's the focus of this whole…_situation,_ I get the feeling he's not. There really is no focus. Just a bunch of confusion._

_Not that I'm confused about how I feel about Raven, of course, I love her, without a doubt. But I _am_ confused about Potter. Half of me, the old me, the one that's screaming for normalcy, is telling me that nothing's changed, that I still hate him. But I know I don't. I haven't for a while, I realise. Do I find him annoying? Yes. But hate? No…not really. I'm not sure when it changed. And I suppose I honestly don't care. _

_There's another factor to this whole thing. Do I find him attractive? At first, I thought no. Even after all of Raven's talk on Thursday. But then when I saw him in only his shirt and knickers the other night…I must say, while he may not be good-looking in the same way that I am, he certainly grew into some kind of attractive bloke at some point I never realised. I missed it, somehow._

_I really don't consider myself gay or bi or whatever, but I know beauty when I see it. And while Potter certainly doesn't have the same kind of beauty as Raven, I _have_ noticed over the past few days that he has…_something. _Whatever it is, I have yet to figure out._

_Oh. Raven's waking up. Merlin she's gorgeous. Dark silky hair, pale skin, bright green eyes…Hey…maybe _that's_ what it is. That's what I find attractive about Potter. I've never noticed how much they look alike. Interesting…I've always placed them in such different places in my mind. Well, besides the fact that they're different genders, and their personalities are totally different. Hmm…I'll have to muse about this more later. Raven's calling.

* * *

_

"Dray?" Raven said in a yawn, rubbing the sleepiness out of her eyes.

"I'm here, Love." Draco said as he crawled back into bed, getting back under the covers and wrapping his arms around the girl, revelling in the feeling of skin-on-skin.

"What were you doing?"

"Just writing."

"In that journal for me?"

"No, actually. In another one. One that I have more control over what's written."

"Oh. I see." She snuggled into his embrace and tucked her head under his chin. "What were you writing about, if I may ask?"

"About you. About Potter. The usual."

"The usual, huh?"

"Yeah. About how I feel about you, and how bloody difficult you are," she giggled at this, and he placed a kiss in her hair, "and about how I'm going to deal with Potter…" he trailed off for a moment before finishing. "About how I've been beginning to think that he's attractive."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." He was glad she couldn't see his blush. Malfoys didn't blush after all. Blast his father's ability to still have an ingrained control in Draco's life.

"Well, I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses." Raven replied.

"Hey!"

"What? It's true."

"But still." They lay there a moment longer, and then Raven finally moved, pulling away and sitting up, keeping the blanket with her to cover her naked torso.

"Well, I should probably get going. I've got to go get my school stuff for today. And eat."

"Aww…" Draco pouted.

"Oh, Dray. Honestly, you've become much too melodramatic. What happened to that hardened Slytherin bad-ass that I fell in love with, eh?"

"Oh, he's in here somewhere. Just waiting for the opportune moment…"

A roll of eyes. "Right…" Raven leaned down and gave Draco a sensuous kiss on the lips, stealing his breath for a moment. "I've got to go, Love. See you in class." Then she slipped out of the bed and quickly dressed in her sweater and skirt, slipping on her clogs and grabbing her bra. Draco watched in avid interest as Raven's long hair flowed around her like silk, accenting off her fair skin. He was very much remembering the feel of that skin from the night (and minutes) before.

Raven turning around and waving from the open doorway brought Draco back to reality from his rather arousing thoughts. "Bye Dray."

"Bye." And she was gone. And Draco was left with an erection to deal with. The morning erection heightened not only by the sight and thoughts of Raven, but by the thoughts of Potter as well. "Damn." So he got back out of bed, grabbed a towel, and went into the bathroom he shared with Blaise, Theo, and Graham. The Slytherin/Ravenclaw boys' dorm decided to divide the bathrooms by house, since there were an odd number of boys.

Thanking his strange new ability to wake up rather early, he slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. Turning on the water and letting it arrive at 'the perfect' temperature, he shucked off his boxers before stepping into the hot stream of water. Sighing at the heat as it hit his shoulders and back, he stood for a minute, relaxing in the thought that he would probably be stealing all of the hot water for the morning.

Grinning slightly, he grabbed the soap and started washing all over, trying to avoid the erection that he knew would need dealing with soon. Not that he was privy to denying himself the pleasure, it was just…well, to be honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was a feeling a little trepidation at the idea that Potter had helped create it. Did he _want_ to think about Potter while wanking? The old part of him was screaming 'no!', but the other part…the part he had reason to suspect was his carnal and natural instincts, that only being around Raven could spark into life…_that_ part was saying, 'why the hell not? Might as well get used to the idea…and it's not like it'd be doing any harm…'

So that was how Draco found himself bracing an arm against the cool shower tiles, panting harshly, becoming physically sated from the forbidden thoughts of Raven and Potter flashing through his mind. There were no specifics, just flashes of memory and imagination…the feel of skin and hair and lips, the sounds of their voices, the desire to touch and feel and explore…it didn't matter with who, in fact, it could have been both at the same time, as long as it was _him,_ Draco, doing the exploring.

Once he was finally back in his room, a secretive grin on his face, he thought, _That has to be the best shower I have ever had.

* * *

_

Raven was quite content to sit dazedly through another History of Magic class when her daze was broken by a folded bit of parchment landing on her desk about halfway through. Lifting her head from her hand she looked around quickly for who sent it to her. But finding no one looking in her direction, she quickly flicked the parchment open, being careful not to alert the teacher, who was, by no means, anything like oblivious Professor Binns back at Hogwarts. Although the subject was still boring as all hell.

The note read:

_Raven, _

_Will you please meet me after class next to the portrait of Gwendel the Garish? _

_Neville Longbottom_

Shooting a look at the boy a few seats to her right she caught him looking at her expectantly. Wondering what on earth the older ex-Gryffindor could have to say to her, but keeping it off her face, she nodded slightly. Raven knew that Neville couldn't be asking her for a date or any such thing; everyone knew that he was dating Luna, the still wide-eyed and kooky ex-Ravenclaw that served as her dorm representative. Maybe it has something to do with Harry…after all, they _do_ live together…

And when she met Neville just after class near the aforementioned portrait, she found her latter suspicions to be correct.

"Are you dating Malfoy?" The usually shy boy blurted out, before Raven could even ask what he wanted.

Raven was immediately defensive. "Why do you want to know? What's it matter to you?"

"I…er…I was just wondering, because…I heard that you were, but-but I saw you with Harry yesterday, and I was…" The stuttering boy finally found his voice. "And I was making sure that you weren't just playing with Harry's feelings." His eyes got a slightly protective gleam in them that Raven found endearing, but didn't show it.

So she raised an arrogant eyebrow instead. "Not that what I do with Harry _or_ Draco is _any_ of your business, Longbottom, but no. Draco and I have an open relationship. Harry is currently just a friend."

"Open relationship? What does that mean?" Neville, thankfully, completely missed Raven's insinuation involving Harry and the word 'currently,' in favour of being confused over her other statement.

"What do you think it means, Longbottom?" She spat.

"Er…that you're…both free to date other people?" He said tentatively. He was starting to re-consider his earlier thoughts of her congeniality level.

Raven touched her nose. "Got it in one, Longbottom. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a potions class to attend." And with that, she swept past him and into the next corridor. _Hmm…I wonder if that was Harry's concern too…_She wondered worriedly.

* * *

"Draco," Raven whispered as she plopped down between him and Blaise a few minutes later. "You're not going to believe what just happened." 

"Ooh, what happened?" said Blaise excitedly from her other side, before Draco could respond.

Raven turned around in exasperation. "Blaise, it's not polite to eavesdrop on other people's conversations."

"When has _politeness_ ever been a part of the Slytherin Code, Raven?" Draco drawled.

"_Not_ the point, Dray. Now Blaise, if you could just turn your ears off for a few minutes…"

Blaise sat back, folding his arms over his chest and pouting. "Oh, fine, you evil, evil witch."

Raven smiled. "Is that really what you think of me Blaise?"

"Wha-" He said in confusion.

"She's saying, 'thanks for the compliment,' Zabini."

"But I wasn't-"

"Doesn't matter. Ears closed." Draco said snappishly. Blaise complied, pointing his wand at his head and muttering a quiet incantation. Satisfied that Blaise was indeed deaf for a few minutes, Raven turned back to Draco and started whispering feverously.

"Longbottom came to me just before class."

Draco made a non-committal grunt in the back of his throat.

"And he asked me if I was dating you. He says he saw me with Harry yesterday and wanted to make sure I wasn't 'playing with Harry's feelings.'"

"Okay…so, why are you telling me this?"

"Draco! Merlin." She shook her head in exasperation. "_Because_, there's a possibility that Neville was actually relaying _Harry's_ feelings in the matter. So. You need to assess that, and make sure he doesn't feel like he's being played. It'll only hinder your progress with him."

"Oh. So you think Potter might feel all insecure about the situation?"

"Precisely. I probably would too, if suddenly my old school rival and his girlfriend started getting rather up-close-and-personal."

"So what _did_ you tell Longbottom? About us?"

"I said we had an open relationship."

"Open, eh?"

"Yes. Does that offend you?"

Draco smirked. "No, actually. I mean, that's what we have at the moment."

Raven nodded. "So…you think you'll still be able to work with Potter?"

Draco grinned in a Cheshire way. "Oh, yes. I think it'll work perfectly with what I have planned for tonight."

* * *

Now, Draco wasn't _exactly_ lying when he told Raven that Harry's possible insecurities would work with what he had had planned for that night, but to be honest, this wasn't going to be any different than the last time, except he wasn't hovering just outside Potter's window. This time, he was throwing pebbles to wake the other boy. 

Just as Draco threw what must have been the tenth pebble, the window opened, (_Finally! It's bloody freezing out here tonight…)_ and Harry appeared, getting said pebble right in the forehead.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Potter!"

"Malfoy…what are you doing?" The Gryffindor asked in a weary sort of way, rubbing at the sore on his forehead.

"Well, I thought that throwing rocks to wake you up would be better, seeing as I scared you scarless last time."

Harry frowned at the 'scar' comment. "That wasn't what I meant. Why are you waking me up? Don't tell me you want another walk?"

"Yes, Potter, that's exactly what I want."

"And if I refuse? Tonight's a school night. I can't be spending the night traipsing about the forest with you."

"And why not? Look, Potter, would you rather I come inside and wake everyone else with our conversation?"

"Assuming I'm privy to a conversation with you at this un-godly hour…"

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing." Harry stood there for a moment in contemplation. "Ok, fine. But I'm coming down through the back door. I can be quiet enough. Last time, we left the window open and my room was freezing when I got back."

"Fair enough." So Draco waited, wishing that he had at least brought his heavy cloak, but he hadn't wanted it to get ruined in the woods, so he was stuck wearing an outfit identical to the one he had worn Saturday night.

Potter came out a minute later, fully dressed and wearing what looked like a heavy muggle jacket. Leave it to Potter to still be more comfortable in muggle clothing, Draco thought wryly. "Don't have a winter cloak, Potter?" he asked the dark-haired boy.

"No, I do. But I figured that we'd probably be going into the woods, and I didn't want it to get ruined." Draco raised an appraising eyebrow at the Gryffindor.

"Well, it seems as though we think a like, Potter."

"I suppose, but I'm not particularly fond of freezing, unlike you, so I wore a jacket." Then Harry fished a few items out of his jacket pocket and offered them to Draco. "Here."

"What's this?" Draco asked, trying to make out the items in the moonlight.

"Some gloves. I thought you might be rather cold in only a sweater and pants. And here," Harry took out another item, stepping forward to wrap it around Draco's neck a few times. "A scarf."

Draco was brought out of his musings of the rather intimate gesture when he actually looked at the scarf around his neck. He frowned. "But it's a Gryffindor scarf," he nearly whined.

"Well, what do you expect? It's the only scarf I have."

Draco immediately started unwrapping it, handing it back to Harry. "I don't think so, Potter. Not even for the sake of keeping warm, will I wear Gryffindor colours."

Harry snorted, wrapping the scarf around his own neck as Draco put on the gloves. "Have it your way, then." And the two set off down the now familiar path through the woods and to the cove.

Once they arrived, Harry said, "We're early. Do you want to go down to the sand?"

"Er…sure. But how? That's a forty-yard drop. I'm not sure I could levitate us down that far."

"Well, seeing as I'm not particularly fond of levitating, it's a good thing there's a path. I noticed it when Raven brought me here yesterday."

"Raven? I didn't know she knew about this place."

"Yeah, I didn't either. It looks totally different in the daytime, too. But it's still amazing. I don't think Raven's ever seen it at night, though."

"Oh. Well…shall we?" Draco gestured forward.

"Sure." And Harry led the way to the rocky path that wound around the inside of the cliff wall, leading down to the white sand below. "Watch your step, it's really narrow."

"I can see that, Potter." Draco said through slightly clenched teeth, and was stunned when Harry turned slightly, holding a hand out to him. He took it warily, realising that the Gryffindor's inherent spontaneity was shifting the control of the situation away from Draco. Draco hadn't planned on being down in the sand that night, or holding hands with the messy-haired young man so soon, but it seemed to be working better than Draco would have thought.

"So…" Draco started as they crept down the path, "Does Raven know that we've come here? I think she mentioned something about it to me yesterday, but I wasn't paying too much attention."

"Yeah, she knows. But I didn't tell her what happens at night, though. And what do you mean, that you weren't paying attention? Do you normally ignore the women you're in love with?"

"What? No, of course not. It's just…I was a little preoccupied at the moment."

"With what?"

"Merlin, Potter, aren't you a curious little bunny tonight."

"It's all part and parcel of the whole Gryffindor gig. You should know that by now."

"Yeah well…" The boys arrived on the sand, and Harry let go of Draco's hand, leading them to the centre, where he sat down and braced himself against a rock. Draco sat next to him, taking a breath to continue. "The thing I was preoccupied with was you, Potter."

"Me?"

"Yes. You and Raven. Nott said that he saw you two holding hands yesterday, and well, to be quite honest, I was a little pissed off about it."

"I…I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean to cut in on your territory. It's not like…I like her _that_ way or anything…"

But Draco waved him off. "It's alright, Potter. We worked it out." They sat for a moment in the dark, waiting for the moon to catch up with them.

"Malfoy…"

"Yeah?"

"How _do_ you feel about Raven's feelings for me? She told me you love her. Doesn't it bother you that she likes someone else as well?"

Draco sighed. "I do love her, Potter. I do. And yes, it bothers me. But…I'm…okay with it, I guess. Raven's an enigma…there's a lot about her that even _I_ don't understand, although we've hardly been separated since the war."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you know that she's a painter, Potter?"

"Yes, actually. I saw a painting she did of the cove in her foyer yesterday."

"Really? I don't remember seeing it…although I was rather irate at the time, so…But anyway, what I'm getting at is that she really only got into art while we were in sanctuary. It's one thing I haven't been a part of in her life since the war. And so…there's a lot I haven't had the chance to understand about her."

"Oh?"

"Yes. She…we…all of us, were…rather messed up, Potter. And that's putting it mildly. If it wasn't the incessant itching of our dark marks that was driving us mad, it was the thoughts of what we had done that was plaguing us. And we were stuck, unable to escape, even from ourselves. Dumbledore forbade us to leave the hospital wing. We had been practically brainwashed, and while I was dealing with and recovering from the unimaginable amount of shit my father cursed me with, Raven was trying to recover from her guilt and the loss of her parents."

"Her parents?"

"Yes. They're not dead or anything, but they were never supporters of the dark arts. They nearly disowned her when she took the dark mark. Although she's come to realise that they're just happy she came to her senses, there's still a lot of bad blood between them." Draco took a deep breath.

"You may not realise this Potter, but Raven, Blaise and I weren't just living it up in the infirmary while you were out there risking your life. Like I said before, we had all been brainwashed in a way, and the kind of attention we needed, not only physically, but emotionally and psychologically was intermittent at best. Everyone was so busy just trying to stay alive and helping those that were fighting, that no one had the time for three recovering Death Eaters." He paused. "We're all messed up. Still are. While Blaise slowly became more introverted, which later changed, Raven started writing and drawing to keep herself from insanity. And I guess…that's why things never changed between us, Potter. With you, I could find sanity…the normalcy I had had before I became a Death Eater. And that's why this conversation hasn't happened earlier. I was scared of too much change."

Both boys were silent for a long moment, while they both contemplated Draco's revelations. Meanwhile, the moonlight finally enveloped the cove and the Dancing of the Lights started. Both boys looked up at the show, silent like the first time, until Draco heard a shuddery sigh escape Potter's lips. He looked over to see a few tears trailing their way down the boy's cheeks.

Draco took off his gloves and took a hold of Harry's hand in a comforting gesture. Harry looked down at the contact, a startled look on his face. Draco took the chance of speaking, and said in a whisper, "Potter, what's wrong?"

Harry gulped hard. "I just…I can't believe that the one person who's ever needed me, not just to kill Voldemort, or be their bloody saviour of the world…the one person who needed me to just keep being me, was…you." His breath hitched slightly, and Draco was suddenly drawn to the other boy, pulling him into a hug so fierce, that he surprised even himself.

Harry nearly collapsed against him, gripping Draco's hand hard, letting the tears leak out of his eyes as he squeezed them tightly shut. Although it was cold, and the hot liquid was burning Harry's cheeks, he paid it no mind. He was more concerned with what the Adonis holding him was thinking. Would he think he was a ponce for crying? Would he laugh and mock him? For some reason Harry didn't think so. He felt hot breath on the back of his neck, where the scarf failed to cover up, and he heard soothing, incoherent whispers. Even after his tears stopped, he sat there, letting his breath become steadier, his cheek pressed against the wool of Draco's sweater, and his hand gripped tightly by the other boy. He couldn't believe that he just broke down, _yet again_, in front of Malfoy. Pushing himself away, he released Draco's hand and fished in his pocket for a cloth to wipe his tear-spotted lenses with.

"Potter…Harry…are you alright?"

Harry smiled slightly. "I'm better, thank you. Sorry if I messed up your jumper."

"That's not important."

Harry finally looked at Malfoy. There was no look of disgust, or even pity on the ex-Slytherin's face. In fact, there was a small furrow in his brow, signalling that he was slightly worried about his companion. "Malfoy, I…Draco. Are you really willing to give up what sanity you've managed to keep by changing our relationship?"

Draco stared for a minute, before he said, "I think I'll be alright, Potter. I've managed to deal with it. I think…I've been ready to finally let it be for a while now. It's…scary, I'm rather afraid to admit, that changing our relationship means getting rid of my so-called 'security blanket,' but…I'm game, if you are."

Harry smiled. "I'm game."

"Good."

They sat there for a few more moments, looking up at the sparkling lights above them, before Draco shivered. "I just realised how cold I am."

Harry shook his head, making an executive decision and un-wrapping the scarf from his own neck, shifting to kneel in front of Draco and wrap it around his. Draco started to protest, but Harry cut him off. "Don't be such an arse, Malfoy. It's the middle of the night, and we're in the middle of the woods. No one's going to see you." Draco muttered something unintelligible, but begrudgingly let Harry have his way.

Harry stood, holding out his hand to help Draco up. "C'mon. We should head back." Draco nodded and took Harry's hand, shoving the gloves he'd been given in his pocket.

Silently, they made their way back up the cliff wall and through the woods, never letting go of the other's hand.

* * *

**Reviews:**

**Slash-lover:** To be completely honest, I'm feeling slightly offended. You'll just have to wait and see what happens. Raven can't be chucked out of the picture (if she's even going to be, I can't promise anything) just like that. If it happens, it happens, but either way, it'll take time. For anything. Please be patient.

**Jamesismysweetheart:** I'm glad you like my story so much. I love it too! lol And no, you're not really jumping on the bandwagon…I've only begun… heh heh heh (I'm evil, so sue me.) ;P

**Eva: **You make me laugh. You really do. I wasn't quite sure _what_ to make of your review, but I laughed, none-the-less. :D I love you, and I'm so glad I have you as a beta. Oh, and if you don't want to beta my other story, just let me know, you won't hurt my feelings. :D Huggles!

**Kittykatt: **Thank you for reviewing! I hope you keep reading!

**Lyn:** To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what to say to you. Because you've brought something to the fore of my mind that has been sitting back there, nagging at me, especially because I wasn't sure how to end this story. But after much counselling and advice, I finally have it figured out. The ending, at least. Now it's just a matter of getting there. I'm certain most everyone will be happy with the final part of the story, but maybe not how it will come about. And I'll let you know right now, that it'll be a little unorthodox. I don't particularly like being like everyone else in my writing. But I do agree with you, and that's why I think I freaked for a few days after getting your review, before I sorted everything out. And don't worry about hating Raven. You can if you want. Sometimes I hate her too.

**Volupta:** It's hard to answer your questions without giving story plots away. But you are right, Raven (although unknowingly) risks losing Draco. Even Slytherins can overlook things sometimes. And I'm sorry that Raven's actions are so confusing. All I can really say is, keep reading. It'll will all become clearer as the story progresses.

**Twodollartrick:** JORDAN! leaps at you and gives you a BIG hug Well, since I've already written you a few e-mails…lol…I'll try to keep this one a bit shorter, if I can. :P Although I have another question…do you know about what month it starts snowing in northern England? (I feel like…completely and utterly retarded asking you this.) It might have an impact as to when things start heating up…and that's all I'm going to say on that.:D

And to respond to your thoughts on Raven's motivations…it's a little bit of both. She will and does do anything to get what she wants. That's why she's a Slytherin. But she's also a changed person, as we will see as the story continues.

And I'm glad you like Raven so much as a character that you don't want her to be tossed aside so easily. I've thought of many different scenarios as to how to deal with the situation we discussed, and I've finally figured it out. Like you've said…I'm writing this story for myself first. So that's what I'm doing.

And by the way, you don't need to keep referring to yourself as the gay british random dude. Although it's kinda endearing to my assumption of you. ;D

And…I read your latest blog. And I won't put much here, but I want you to know that while I _obviously_ don't really know how you feel, I **do **understand the love aspect of it. And you describe it all so well. You're writing is truly amazing, Jordan. Really. It was written in such a way I was about to buy a ticket to London just to see you, and make sure you were ok. And let you know that I'm always here, if you ever need to talk to someone without a face. :)

Ok, I think this is long enough. :P I'll talk to you later, love. Huggles and Kisses!

XOXOX

Rae

**Potterluvva: **I'm glad you like it, and I can't answer your last question, or else I'll give the ending away! But please keep reading!


	7. Understanding Elusive Slytherins

**Chapter Notes: **_Ok, I guess you could call this a 'filler' of sorts. I'll explain more after the chapter…'cause I know no one reads this. Unless someone proves me wrong…

* * *

_

**The Bet **

**Chapter VII – Understanding Elusive Slytherins**

* * *

_ 23 September 2003_

_Shit. Again, it's getting out of my control. Not that becoming friends with Potter isn't a good thing in the long run…it's just that I'm supposed to be driving him crazy with desire. And since he decided to take things into his own hands and talk to Raven, only to find out she likes him…he's going to think it's increasingly odd that I'm coming on to him as well._

_And I was wrong about why I'm suddenly attracted to Potter. Although the similarities in appearance to Raven are an initial factor, there's still…something else. Something that Raven must not have, but Potter does. Not that I'm any less attracted to Raven because of it…it's just different, is all._

_And…I was shocked, to say the least, when Potter started crying after I told him that I had needed him to keep me sane after the war. Not shocked that he was crying so much, but shocked because he felt comfortable enough to do so in front of me. To confess that he himself was shocked that I was the only person who needed him. _

_And all I could do was hold him._

_And that shocked me as well. The second I saw his tears…it was all I could do to make him feel better, to make him know without a doubt that someone cares about him. Although I'm almost afraid to admit that. That I'm beginning to care. But I do. I think I always have. Otherwise, why would I have needed to always be a part of his life, regardless of the fact that I was actually trying to make it all harder for him?_

_Merlin, it's scary. To think that Harry Potter feels like he's never been needed for anything more than killing Voldemort and saving the world. What kind of friends does he have that he'd think something like that?

* * *

_

Ron led Hermione into his and Neville's room, closing the door and putting a silencing spell up.

"So, Neville, what did you find out?" Hermione asked, sitting on Ron's bed and tucking her legs underneath her. Ron sat down beside her, leaning back on his hands.

"Well…" Neville answered, sitting on the edge of his own bed, "I think I may have over-estimated the kindness of her."

"Really? Was she mean to you?"

"No…not exactly. Just…snappy. And a little cold."

"Hmm…well, what did she say, in any case?"

"That her and Draco were in an 'open relationship' and that Harry was only a friend."

"Only a friend, huh?" Hermione mused off into space, pursing her lips. "And Draco and her are in an 'open relationship'?" Neville nodded his assent.

"What are you thinking, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

Hermione tossed her braid over one shoulder to play with the end of it. "Well…'open relationship' probably means that Raven and Draco are seeing each other, but see no need to tie themselves down with only each other."

"Yeah, that's sort of what she said." Neville cut in.

"Oh? She told you?"

"No, I asked, and she had me guess that they were both free to date other people. She told me I was right."

"Hmm…"

"Enough with the 'hmms', Hermione," Ron said. "What do you think we should do?"

Hermione frowned. "Don't get snappy with me, Ronald. I'm still thinking." After another few minutes she said, "There must be something else that's going on. A reason that Raven's suddenly talking to Harry. We need to find out what it is before we can do anything, if we decide to anything at all. Do you know if they have any classes together? Maybe that's why they're talking."

Ron shook his head. "I'm not sure. She could be in one of his medical classes…we're not in any of those."

"True. I'm not sure _what_ she's studying," Hermione said. "Well, this meeting was rather unproductive. I guess I'll just hunt her down tomorrow and have a little chat with her."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Ron asked, placing a hand on the small of her back.

"Why?" Hermione smiled mockingly sweet at him. "You want to defend me against the mischievous little Slytherin, Ron?" The redhead had the decency to blush.

"No…I was just saying…" Ron sputtered.

Hermione laughed. "That's alright. But I think I should do this by myself. You know, a little 'girl-talk.'"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh yes. '_Girl_-talk.' I'll never understand you women. Always got to keep your 'talks' under lock and key."

"Oh? And you _men_ don't hide things from us?" When Ron was about to reply, she said, "No. Wait. I don't want to know what goes on in your sordid and perverted little talks. Keep it to yourselves." But her face held a little grin.

"Hey! Our talks aren't perverted! Or whatever else you said! They're probably nothing worse than what you _women_ talk about!"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, so you guys talk about the guy who can't keep it up, or the pains of bleeding every month?"

Neville's eyes widened in surprise and he cried out slightly in disgust, clapping his hands over his ears. "Ew! Too much information, too much information!"

Ron's face was a little paler, and he completely ignored Hermione's last statement. "Is that…is that really what you talk about? I mean…I don't…do I?" He looked on the verge of tears.

Hermione was suddenly very serious, turning to fully face her fiancé and take his face in her hands. "No, silly. I don't talk about that. And no, you don't. I've never not been satisfied."

Neville suddenly stood. "Er…perhaps I should go. I'll talk to you later. Just don't…mess up the room. Again." And then he was gone, leaving the pair alone.

Ron and Hermione sat in silence for a moment. But finally, Ron broke it by speaking in a quiet voice. "That really hurt, Hermione."

"I'm sorry Ron, honestly. I didn't mean it. I wasn't even talking about you. Really."

He bit is lower lip. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She smiled at him. "Oh, come here, you big dolt." And she reached forward to bring him into a big embrace, holding him to her tightly. "I love you, Ron Weasley."

"I love you too, 'Mione," Ron whispered back, holding her in return.

Breaking apart slightly, they leaned back in to kiss, which soon escalated into a full snog-fest. After a break for a much-needed breath, Hermione moved to lie down on the bed, pulling Ron with her, where he laid his head on her chest, enjoying the soft fabric of her pink sweater on his cheek, and wrapping his arm around her middle. As she played with his shocking flame of hair, he smiled contentedly, and closed his eyes. After a moment of silence, Hermione finally spoke.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?" He murmured sleepily.

"Do you…do you think Harry's just lonely?"

"What do you mean?" Ron said, slightly more awake.

"Well…Harry hasn't really talked to us lately, have you noticed? He's been going off more on his own…doing his own thing… Which is fine, I mean, I think it's important that he find himself, don't you?"

"Yeah…But Hermione, what are you getting at?"

"Like I said before, I think Harry's just lonely. Almost everyone around us is in some type of relationship. And Harry's not. In fact, now that I think about it, he hasn't pursued a girl since Cho…and that was almost nine years ears ago, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, maybe that's why he's talking to Raven. Even if she is with Malfoy. Maybe they have a class together, and get along alright. Maybe they're just friends. Who knows. I just think that Harry's lonely. And with us going on about the wedding all the time, I'm sure it just becomes more apparent in Harry's mind how alone he might feel."

"So…do you want us to try and hook Harry up with someone?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment. "Maybe. I really do think that we shouldn't interfere…because that's all Harry's ever known…people interfering in his life. But at the same time…I want to make sure he's happy. And maybe a girl, even if it's Raven, will be the right thing to get him going again. Even if it's not happily-ever-after. At least it'll get him back in the game. It's been much too long."

"And for a while there, all anyone could think about was trying to stay alive," Ron reminded her.

"Exactly."

"So we wait? And see what's going on with Raven?"

Hermione nodded, kissing the crown of her fiancé's head. "We wait."

* * *

Hermione was surprised at how long it took to track down the Slytherin girl on such a small campus. First, she went to Dormitory Four, but she wasn't there, and no one who was could tell the Gryffindor where the Slytherin had gone. Then she went to Dormitory Three, in the hopes that Raven might be with Malfoy, but found, before Graham Pritchard quite rudely closed the door in her face, that neither Malfoy or Raven were in. 

So that left her with the option of searching every single classroom on campus on her only free day of the week. She started with the _Mixing Chamber_, a low, flat building with one story above ground, and three below. Potion making required that a majority ingredients be stored in such a way that sunlight didn't interfere, as it aged certain things incredibly fast. The ground-level floor was filled with potions-theory classrooms, and while she found Malfoy working on what looked like a rather complicated potion theory, when asked, he couldn't tell her where the elusive girl was. He only raised a calculating eyebrow at her when she lied and said she needed to find her to talk about schoolwork.

So moving on, she searched the one building she, herself, spent the most time in, the _Spell Weaver_ building. This building was a large stone structure, taller than it was wide, with small little towers here and there, giving it an almost castle-like quality. The building was designed to house not only the spell creation classrooms, but the general education ones as well, including Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration and the like, and also had numerous greenhouses on its roof for the Herbology studies. But again, the mysterious girl was nowhere to be found.

It was getting on to lunchtime when Hermione finished searching the tall building, and so she stopped by her dorm, Number Two, to grab something to eat. Stepping back outside, full and renewed of energy, the bushy-haired young woman went to the third school building in the circle. The _Medi-Arts_ building. This building housed all of the medical-related studies needed to start a career in the arts of magical healing. Of course, after getting a degree in the theory and practicum of the medical arts, you had to do an apprenticeship for at least three years, preferably five, in order to become fully efficient and self-sustaining as a medi-wizard. Hermione caught a glance of Harry in one of the classrooms, and quickly moved on, but in vain. This girl was just nowhere to be found!

Finally, Hermione wandered into the library, the second building she spent most of her time in. She always found comfort in the smell of the old tomes; centuries of knowledge being passed down through quill and paper. But again, Hermione's search was unproductive. Just as she was about to leave, thinking that perhaps the girl went into the village, or maybe she just kept missing her, a door off to the left of the foyer of the library caught her eye. She wasn't sure why she had never noticed it before, but it clearly lead into another chamber, and was smartly labelled, _Art._ Hermione mused about the need for such a room, when she pushed open the door and entered a small, circular antechamber with many doors, each one labelled. Scanning her eyes over the small brass plaques, her eyes read: _Painting, Photography, Drawing, _and _Clay and Metal._ Hermione realised then that these were art classrooms, used for extra curricular activities, kind of like Quidditch and the Wizard's Chess Club. Approaching the door closest to her, _Painting,_ and opening it, she was awarded immediately with the sight of Raven, standing alone in the middle of the classroom, facing the door, looking musingly at whatever it was that she was painting. She looked up when Hermione stepped inside.

With a cool and indifferent look on her face she said, "Granger. I didn't know you were into painting." Raven swirled her brush around in a metal bowl, tapping it sharply on the side and then brushing it back and forth on a shoddy-looking wire rack that was set off to the side. Then she used her fingers to smooth out the bristles. Hermione watched, fascinated, and took in the room around her as well. The room had floor to ceiling windows on two sides, and Hermione wondered why she never noticed that feature from the outside of the building before, and then realised that it must have been enchanted to look like normal stone on the outside. Looking around the medium-sized room, she saw all kinds and sizes of easels, and many paint-stains on the floor and walls. There were a few large shelving units with vertical slots in them, filled with different sized canvases. There were also two large sinks in one corner, and many, many candles floating up near the ceiling, but none were lit.

As she re-gained eye contact with Raven, she realised that she had never responded to the other girl's comment. "Er, no. I'm not into painting. I was just looking for you." Hermione realised just how stupid she sounded, and took a breath to get her composure back.

Raven raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, you found me. What do you want?"

"To talk to you. About your intentions with Harry."

"You know, Granger, you're the second person in two days that's asked me about that. And I'll tell you the same thing I told Longbottom: Harry is currently just a friend."

But Hermione thought quickly and read between the lines. "'Currently?' What does that mean? Will you be expecting something more than that later?"

Raven stopped the cleaning of her space and said calmly, "I don't believe that's any of your business."

"If it's about Harry it is," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes and stepping closer to the other girl.

Raven sighed. She knew that she couldn't scare this one away as easily as she had the other. The ex-Gryffindor was too smart for that. Raven knew she'd have to let enough information go to satisfy the other girl, but not raise suspicions about the absolute nature of what was going on.

"Granger, we've never been friends. In fact, I'm sure this is our first time speaking to one another." Hermione wanted to just tell the girl to get to the point, but refrained. "And I certainly wouldn't want someone I barely knew stepping into my best friend's life for reasons unknown. But let me ask you this: have you noticed how Harry's been doing lately?"

Hermione was thrown off by the question. She wasn't exactly sure what information the girl was asking for. So she stayed on the safe side and asked a question back. "Why do you want to know?"

"I already know. I was wondering if you did."

Hermione gazed steadily back at the longhaired girl. She still didn't trust her, but knew that she had to figure out what Raven was thinking before she left the room. "I…I might have noticed something. Why don't you tell me what you know, and then we'll see if it's similar to my knowledge."

Raven smirked. "I was right. You are a smart one. Well, seeing as I believe we both have Harry's best interests at heart here, I'll let you know that I've been watching Harry for some time now. And…he's not finished healing."

"Healing? From what?"

"For how smart you are, you don't use your eyes too much, do you?" Hermione's look turned icy, and Raven continued as if she didn't notice. "Harry's not finished. Dealing with the burdens the fight with Voldemort put him through. He's not finished at all. And everyone else has moved on. Without him. And he's lost. And alone."

Hermione regarded the girl with mild appraisal. "To be honest, I've just recently noticed the same thing myself."

"Were you planning on doing anything about it?"

The Gryffindor crossed her arms over her chest. "Actually, I was waiting for you."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "For me?"

"Yes. Harry seemed fairly happy to have found a new friend in you. And since I saw you two holding hands…I was wondering if it was more than that. I wanted to know, before I tried to interfere, what you really felt for him. Because I really don't want you, me, or anybody else interfering in his life, unless it's absolutely necessary. He's had more than enough of other people's meddling. And I think that Harry feels like the one thing he's missing…is someone by his side. I believe that Harry just needs to find love."

"I agree."

Hermione quirked up an eyebrow. "So? What intentions do you have involving Harry? Especially since you agree with me?"

"I'm here to be his friend, his lover, anything he wants from me that I can give."

The older girl frowned. "But what about Malfoy?"

"What about Draco?"

"I thought you two were together."

Raven smiled through her eyelashes. "We are. Of a fashion."

"Is it that 'open relationship' thing you told Neville?"

"Yes. It is that."

"I hear an 'and' in there."

Raven laughed. "_And_ he supports me in my endeavours to heal Harry's heart and help him find love."

"I'm not sure I follow completely. Are you just going to string along two guys? And besides, if I know Malfoy, I'd like to think that he doesn't like sharing."

"No, I do not plan on stringing along two guys. And you're right; Draco doesn't like sharing. But it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Do tell."

"Granger, you know my most recent history, involving the Dark Lord and such."

"Yes…"

"I've never liked anyone outside of Slytherin House. Even Harry. But after Sanctuary…things changed. I still may not like you, or Weasley. But I do like Harry. I do care about him. I've let most of my prejudices go. And I'm trying to get Draco to do the same."

Hermione thought for a moment. "So you're…doing something to get Malfoy to start liking Harry? Just like that?"

"No, of course not 'just like that.' And I'm not really doing anything."

"Then how…?"

"Oh, it's all Draco. I've tricked him into doing it himself."

"You've tricked him?"

"Well, I _am_ a Slytherin, after all."

"And Draco doesn't know he's doing this? I'm confused. Malfoy's too smart to just befriend Harry out of nowhere."

"You're right. So he knows."

"Then why is he doing it?"

"Because he loves me. And he knows it'll make me happy."

Hermione stood there in stunned silence. "So…Malfoy's befriending Harry?"

"Yes."

"And you…like Harry?"

"Yes."

"_And_ Malfoy?"

"And for a third time, yes."

Hermione understood, but she still frowned. "But…but I don't understand. Even if you and Malfoy have an 'open relationship,' what about Harry? Where will he wind up in all this?"

Raven regarded Hermione for a long moment. "To be completely honest, I'm not sure. I suppose that will ultimately be up to Harry." When Hermione opened her mouth to undoubtedly retort, Raven spoke again. "Granger…Hermione. I don't wish to hurt Harry. I really don't. But if he needs someone to love him, and help him through, or even forget, whatever it is he needs to, then I will try to be that person for him. I'm not saying that you and Weasley don't love him, but I think we both know that you two will be getting busy with your new engagement, and I think we both know that Harry won't want to put either of you out. So, be there when you can. And Draco and I will be there the rest of the time."

Hermione was rather shocked. _Is this girl _really _a Slytherin?_ She seemed much more mature and thoughtful than Hermione had originally thought. And…her logic did make some sort of sense, but this was _Harry._ And Hermione _really_ didn't want to see him get hurt. Hermione walked over to a window and looked outside, musing at the golden leaves falling from the trees like snow. Sighing audibly, she finally turned around and said,

"Raven, I do see where you're coming from. And you're right, in a lot of ways. Ron and I _will_ be getting increasingly busy as the time to our wedding draws near, but I…I just don't know. What does Harry know about all of this?"

"He knows that I care about him and that I like him, and that Draco is learning how to get past his hatred."

"It just seems too simple. There must be something else going on."

"Well, there isn't, Granger." The dark-haired girl lied. "All I can assure you is that I _will_ make sure Harry knows what the consequences and the inevitable outcome are if he decides to take things any further than friendship. But like I said, it's eventually all up to him. Draco and I will be here for whatever he needs us for."

"Are you really sure about Malfoy? I just don't believe that either of them could bury the hatchet after all these years."

"They'll have to grow out of it at some point, Granger. I honestly think they're both tired of constantly holding grudges. Draco tries to hide it, but I think it's been a nagging feeling that he's never bothered to look into. If anything, it'll be my life's goal to help Draco get rid of the past his family's tainted him with. He really doesn't need his father's mistakes, or his, for that matter, hanging him up."

Hermione looked calculating at the girl in front of her. "You're different than I imagined, Raven. I didn't think you'd be so…unselfish."

Raven smiled softly and then continued to clean up her workspace. "People change, Granger."

"Indeed they do."

Raven looked up and smirked. "But don't get me wrong, I'm still a Slytherin at heart."

Hermione smiled ruefully. "As long as yours doesn't play with Harry's."

The younger Slytherin girl smirked, but they both knew the seriousness of what they were really saying. "If he's ever hurt, it won't be intentional. I wasn't lying before when I said that I'd make sure he knows what he's getting into, if he feels the need to take things a step further than friendship. Because honestly, I think one of the biggest parts of loneliness, is not having a physical and emotional connection with someone. It makes the intellectual loneliness that much harder to bear."

Hermione regarded the girl for a moment then nodded once and left the art room, comfortable with the strange understanding that had just occurred. Now, how to convey in layman's terms the information to Ron and Neville, knowing that the men probably wouldn't understand '_girl_-talk'.

* * *

_A/N: Ok, yeah, so filler chapter, right? Eh, sort of. It's important, because basically, I needed to keep the other Gryffindors out of the picture. You know them, always mucking everything up with their curiosity…_

_Anyway, I also need to tell you all, that while I'm** still** writing, I have **another story** to write as well, not to mention that school just started and I'm working as well. A bit more of a load than I had last quarter, so I'm just letting you all know now that there will **probably be huge delays **until break, and even then…I'm going out of town for Spring Break…but it's only a week long, so don't fret. :D I really want keep the quality of my writing up, rather than just trying to get the story written, and shucking it up on the 'net. So I hope that doesn't disappoint too many of you, I'll try to do the best I can, but school comes first. (God knows I'm paying enough for it.)_

**Reviews:**

**Tinas74 and Layce74: **Thanks for reviewing, I'm working on it!

**Twodollartrick: **I'm glad you liked the ending scene. I promise that there is more to come. Mostly just conversations and looks and touches…that sort of stuff. THEN we get to the good stuff. :P

And **DON'T** hate yourself for loving him. Never doubt yourself like that. Especially your feelings. If I ever hear you say that again, Jordan, Merlin help me, I _will_ fly to London and set you straight. :) You can't help how he feels, and unfortunately, that's life, but you _can_ help how you deal with it. And hating yourself won't make it any easier. Just remember that there are people out there that do love you, and support you (like me :D) and don't be afraid to call on me whenever you need to. Just…do like me, like Jesse, (and like Harry…as we'll soon see), and just live life like there's no tomorrow. Do whatever takes your fancy (within reason, of course…), and just have fun. I'll be completely cliché and say, you're only this young once. (God, I hope I didn't just sound like 'Mother Hen' there. I tend to do that sometimes, and I try not to be, and I'm sure you've heard all before, and you don't want my advice, but my main point here is, if you dwell on it, it will only get worse.)

So…yeah! Be happy! If anything, I'll be more than happy to fly over there and knock some sense into this guy. ;P

Love ya,

XOXOX

Rae

P.S. I just realised my 'straight' comment up in the second paragraph…I really didn't mean it like that. I swear. Although… (wink wink) Just slap me. Really. I want you to. I'm being rude. ( I think I just need to get-) Nevermind.

**Volupta:** Yes, yes, yes, they will be getting closer…but more on an intellectual and emotional way than physical…for a while yet. It can't just come out of nowhere, you know. :D I'm glad it was less confusing. I'm sorry I couldn't give you much of an answer last chapter…I can't give too much away, you know. ;)

**Lyonessheart: **First of all, I want to thank you profusely for your observations and words regarding the reality of my story. That's what I'm going for. And I'm with you as far as the pairings go…I normally don't like OC's either…but for some reason, I find myself writing them in all over the place (aka: my other story). Kinda a paradox, you know?

And your fears are well founded. And I can't give you assurances or doubts unfortunately, without giving away the plot. But I hope you'll continue to read it to the end. There's some good stuff coming, as well as a whole lot of shit, too. Such is life. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Its reviewers like you that make me keep writing.

**Vote-larry4prez: **LoL I'm glad you like Raven so much! She's been a bit of a controversy for a while now…so I'm so happy that someone else likes her too! And yes…I wouldn't mind being her, either…(and to be honest…that's kinda why I thought up the story…although it was a little different, originally.) And to answer your question: both. ; )

**Slash-lover:** yes, I think they're cute too! I'll write as much as I can, just don't get grumpy if some stuff happens that you don't like. I can't please everyone, but I'll try. :D


	8. Intuition

**Chapter Notes: **_Er…I have no idea what to say about this chapter, honestly. It's kind of a lead-in to the next chapter, really. Kind of bit of fun and whatnot. Oh, and please don't be mad at me. Everything will sort it's self out in due time…

* * *

_

**The Bet **

**Chapter VIII – Intuition**

* * *

Have you ever had that feeling like something's going on behind your back, but every time you try to find out what it is, it completely evades you, and you're left wondering if you're just exceedingly paranoid for no reason? 

Well, that's how Harry Potter felt at this moment. He was _sure_ there was _something_ going on between Hermione, Ron and Neville; something to do with him, and if he knew his friends well enough, and he'd like to think he did, than he knew that they were just like him: curious enough to kill the cat five times over, and brave enough to find out all about it first.

And again, he knew that nothing of any great importance was really going on in his life (well, perhaps except his increasing friendships with Malfoy and Raven), so he also knew that Hermione was probably trying to make a mountain out of a mole hill with the small showing of friendly affection that had passed between him and Raven on Sunday afternoon.

It was now Thursday; three days after he cried on Malfoy's shoulder, and there had been no other contact with either of the Slytherins. But that night, when Hermione, Ron and Neville all went over to Number Two, 'just to get some class notes,' he had the distinct feeling that he was being left out of something. And so, being the most curious Gryffindor of all (probably enough to flat out take all nine lives), he snuck out after them, grabbing his broom so he could hover just outside Hermione's window and see what all the fuss was about.

He knew he really shouldn't eavesdrop on his friends, but since their behaviour was so odd, he felt that he should at least see if there was anything untoward about their little meeting. He was even more suspicious when he saw Hermione cast a silencing spell on the room. And knowing that he couldn't hear anything, he was about to just give up when he studied Hermione's face and the words her mouth was forming. Something about…Raven…likes Harry _and_ Malfoy…I'm still suspicious, but that…mean that…I think everything will be fine…let Harry…

But she was talking too fast for Harry to really catch anything more, and Ron and Neville weren't facing him. Lip-reading was hard. Even with Hermione's slight push of the perfect enunciation of words. So Harry landed and headed back to Number One, letting what little pieces of information he had mull around in his mind, trying to find a logical explanation for it all. It was like opening an old box of puzzle pieces, only to realise a few hours later, that nearly half of the pieces had been lost at one point in time.

So all that Harry could really gather, but which was more like an assumption, really, was that Hermione must have talked to Raven. How else would she have known how Raven felt about him and Malfoy? Harry was a little put off that he couldn't find out what the trio was going to do with that information, but realised that he really couldn't care less. He was tired of everyone messing with his life. It was time he took a bit more control of where his life was going. And with that decision, he put his broom away and made his way back outside, across the courtyard and over to Number Four.

* * *

"What do you mean, Raven likes Harry _and_ Malfoy? How can she like two people at once?" 

"Ron, it's really not all that hard." Hermione said. "You can't help who you become attracted to."

"What do you mean? Do _you_ like someone else?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say-"

"Do you remember Victor Krum?" She cut off.

"Yeah, of course I remember that ugly, Bulgarian, sorry excuse for a-"

"Well, I liked you both. You _and_ Victor. But you were being such a prat at the time that I-"

"Me? How was I being a prat?"

"Um, guys, can we get back to subject?" Neville said in a rather timid voice.

Ron huffed slightly; obviously not ready to let it go. Slouching on the bed and crossing his arms, he said, "Yeah. Fine."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, I'm still slightly suspicious, but Raven didn't seem to be trying to hide anything. If she wanted to keep me in the dark, she could have."

"Who says she's not just lying to you? About everything?"

Hermione thought for a moment. How to explain this… She settled on, "Women's intuition, I guess."

Ron deadpanned for a moment. "Women's intuition?"

"Yes." Since Ron was obviously not buying it, and Neville just seemed rather confused by the whole mess, she said, "Look, I just think it would be better if we just let it be. We should trust Harry's instincts. They _are_ the reason most of us are still alive today. Besides, Raven seemed to be very aware of how Harry has been doing lately, and genuinely wanted to help."

Ron sighed. "Well, I suppose so…"

"Well…if you still feel weird about it, why not talk to Harry yourself, Ron?" Neville said.

Ron smiled. "That's a good idea, Neville."

"Thanks."

"So, that's settled then?" Hermione said. "Ron, you're going to talk to Harry, and then we're just going to leave it alone for now?"

"Yeah," came the simultaneous response.

Hermione smiled. "Good."

* * *

To say that Raven was a bit surprised to see Harry at such a late hour on a Thursday was actually quite true. She tried to not let anything take her by surprise, and as such, politely invited Harry inside and upstairs to her room, where they could have at least a little bit of privacy. 

Daphne Greengrass was sitting on her bed, trying in vain to get through her Arithmancy homework when Raven walked in with none other than Harry Potter.

"Daphne, I'm not sure you guys ever met, but this is-"

"Harry Potter. I know." She quirked up an eyebrow at the girl then turned her gaze over to Harry.

Harry just stood there, his hands shoved in his pockets and looking altogether a bit nervous. "Hello, Daphne," he said.

"Hello…Harry." It was only polite to say his first name when he said hers, after all.

At the rather awkward atmosphere, Raven cleared her throat and asked, "Daphne, I don't mean to be rude, but do you think Harry and I could have a moment alone? I don't want to interrupt your studying or anything…"

"No," Daphne said quickly. "It's fine. I was just thinking of taking a break anyway. Arithmancy still is a hard one for me. Just call me when I can come back up." And then with a rather calculating look at the dark-haired, green-eyed pair, she scooted off her bed and out the door, closing it behind her.

Raven turned to Harry. "So…Harry. What do you want to talk about?" Sitting on her bed, she patted the space next to her.

Blushing slightly, Harry sat down next to her leaning his elbows on his knees. "Er…well, it's not a secret or anything…I was just…well, I've decided to take you up. On your modelling proposition."

Raven's eyes lit up and she smiled. "Really?"

"Yes. And you really don't have to pay me. I don't want payment."

A smirk placed itself on Raven's lips and she said, "And may I ask what provoked you to want to do this for me?"

Harry shrugged. "I just wanted to try something new, I guess. And you needed help with your paintings anyway."

Raven nodded in understanding. "So…what time is good for you? I'm open all weekend."

"Well, I have Quidditch practice tomorrow after school, but after that I'm open."

"That's right, I nearly forgot about your daily Quidditch practice. Are you sure you won't be too worn out?"

"No, I'll be fine. I don't have morning class on Fridays, so I can just catch up on my beauty sleep then," Harry grinned.

Raven chuckled. "Oh, yes. I'm sure you Gryffindors need all the beauty sleep you can get."

"Hey, I don't just roll out of bed looking this good, unlike you and Malfoy. It takes effort!" He joked back.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Besides," Harry said, "I should probably let Malfoy take on more of the practicing, and just watch."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't get enough practice…and I've been thinking of asking the captain if he'd let Malfoy play more often."

Raven cocked her head to the side. "What makes you think he'd like to play more often?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Seeker's intuition, I guess. He's really not all that bad; he was my only real competition at Hogwarts, after all."

"I think Draco would have a heart attack to hear you complementing him."

Harry furrowed his brow quickly, like he just realised that he did just complement his long-time rival. But he smiled and said, "Now that's something I'd like to see."

Raven rolled her eyes. "And here I'd thought the two of you had made progress."

"Really? Did Malfoy tell you that?"

"Sort of. He skimmed over the details, but did mention that you seemed rather comfortable around him at some point Monday night."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, Harry. Draco and I are both private people. We both understand about keeping others' privacy. Like I said, he really only told me that you guys seemed to have made some progress in your relationship."

"We have. A little. But it's still strange." There was a small pause before he said; "Anyway…I'm a little tired of stealing the limelight all the time. Malfoy should have the same opportunity I have to go pro, if he wants to, that is."

"What about you? Do you want to, Harry?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I mean, I'm studying medicine on top of my N.E.W.T. classes, and I'd really like to work at Hogwarts as Madam Pomfrey's apprentice, but I really love Quidditch too. And it would give me the opportunity to go and see the world."

"Maybe you could try Seeking, and then work at Hogwarts," Raven suggested.

"Maybe. It's something to think about at least." Harry chuckled. "You know, it's funny. Even though I've been studying medicine for a few years now, I still feel like I don't know what I want to do with my life."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Harry. Wizard's lives are longer than muggles…you have plenty of time to figure out what your true passions are."

Harry sighed, sagging slightly in defeat. "I know. But it's just…well, I've never told anyone this, but…ever since the war's been over, and I've had time to focus on other things besides killing Voldemort, tracking down the remaining Death Eaters, and helping the survivors…I've realised that I had never expected to survive the war. I really thought I was going to die. That Voldemort would take me down with him. It's something I think about everyday, even as I throw myself into what ever it is I'm doing, to help forget about it all."

Raven put an arm around Harry's shoulders. "To be honest, I didn't quite expect that you felt that way, Harry. But a part of me understands. I mean, _I_ _wished _I could die…when I was in the infirmary. But I couldn't. I couldn't do that to Draco, I couldn't do that to my parents…I couldn't do that to myself. Draco, Blaise and I…we're what's left of those who chose to follow the Dark Lord, and now, all I can be, every day, is…grateful. Grateful that we were given another chance at life, instead of killed or put in Azkaban."

Harry smiled softly, realising what it was that Raven was trying to say. "You're right, Raven. I really shouldn't be focusing on feeling like I was supposed to die. I should focus on how I want to live, and make the most out of it."

Raven ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Exactly, Harry. You're still young. You should do whatever it is you fancy, before you're so old that you become as bizarre as Dumbledore."

Harry laughed. "Could you imagine _me_, acting like Dumbledore?"

Raven laughed too. "Not particularly, no."

When their laughter died down, the two looked at each other for a moment, both forgetting the conversation momentarily, and then the world started to revolve only around each other and their sudden intimacy.

Raven felt those little butterflies flutter in her stomach as she realised the close proximity of the Gryffindor. She had never been this close to him; her arm was still around his shoulders, her fingers were playing with his hair. She could count the freckles on his nose; there were five. His cheeks were this constant flush of pink, making it look like he was always blushing, and it was only getting darker at the closeness of the nearly identical girl. Harry's lips were parted slightly, and Raven noticed just how full his bottom lip was, and how red the flesh was.

Harry was having a hard time breathing. The last time he had been this close to a girl that he was attracted to, was Cho. His spine tingled as her fingers massaged his scalp. He had thought that Raven's skin was as fair and pale as Malfoy's, but now he noticed that she had a few light freckles on her cheeks and nose, and a slight flush to her skin, but he had a feeling that that wasn't normal for her. Her green eyes were wide and searching, obviously looking at him as well. And when her eyes landed on his lips, he automatically looked down at hers as well.

Unconsciously, both parties leaned forward, and just before their lips touched, they both jumped apart in shock.

"I…er…" Harry mumbled. _Oh God._

"Yeah…" Raven breathed. _Oh Goddess, what just happened?_

Harry fidgeted in his seat next to her. "Maybe I should…"

"Yeah…I'll…"

"…See you tomorrow." Harry stood.

"Yeah." _God, can't I say anything else?_

"Bye, Raven." Harry quickly went to the door and opened it.

"Bye, Harry." She watched as Harry left her bedroom.

As Harry walked back home, only one thought permeated his mind:

_Malfoy's going to kill me.

* * *

_

When Ron and Neville returned from Hermione's, Harry was nowhere to be found. So Ron sat in the lounge and waited, hanging around with Seamus and Owen, as they vainly tried to finish their homework, but were too talkative to stay on track. After a few moments of waiting, Harry finally came home, kicking off his shoes and wearily trudging upstairs.

"Oi! Harry!"

Harry stopped his ascent to turn around and look at his best mate. "Oh, hey Ron. What's up?"

"Where ya been?"

"Oh…over at Raven's."

Ron frowned slightly and said, "I see. Um…actually, I was wondering if you had a minute to talk."

Harry was in a slight mental anguish at the moment, considering what had just happened, but realised that Ron probably wanted to talk about whatever it was exactly that Hermione had told him. So he decided to just get it all over with, and see what the three had decided to do.

"Yeah, sure. Come on up." And Harry started walking up to his room again, waiting for Ron to follow him inside, and then closed the door behind them. Flopping down on his bed, he asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

Ron shifted his stance slightly. "Er…well, I was wondering…how you felt about…Raven," he finished. Harry raised an eyebrow. At his hesitation to answer, Ron continued. "You know you can tell me anything, mate."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know. And to tell you the truth…I'm not sure. I mean, I know I'm attracted to her, and I think I might like her, I _definitely_ feel comfortable with her, but…I also know that she likes Malfoy, and he likes her. They've known each other a lot longer, and I know I can't compete with that."

Ron nodded. "I see. So you're not going to do anything?"

Harry shrugged. "What can I do, really? Without over stepping my bounds?" He shook his head. "No, I don't think I'll do anything."

"But I thought…I thought that Raven liked you…"

Harry gazed back steadily at his friend. "Yes, she does. And I suppose you and Hermione and Neville had to go find that out for yourselves?" he said in an accusing tone.

Ron blushed and stammered, "Er, y-yeah. We did. Hermione talked to Raven yesterday."

"I thought so."

"Are you mad?"

Harry sighed. "To be completely honest, yes. I'm tired of everyone butting in on my business. And I know you guys are just trying to look out for my best interests, but I wish you'd trust my judgement."

"We do, mate, we do. But you have to agree, that this situation is a little odd."

"I suppose so. Honestly though, it's just nice to have some change right now. I was feeling like I was in a bit of a rut there."

"I understand. Hermione and I just didn't want you getting forgotten as we both start focusing on the wedding as well as N.E.W.T.'s."

"I know, Ron. But I'll be fine. Honest. I think I'm just going to live life up a little. Do whatever takes my fancy. Have more fun. Stuff like that."

"That's fine, mate. Just try and stay out of trouble, eh?"

"I will, Ron. I will."

* * *

_A/N: Yeah…so I hope you don't all hate me. I can't really talk about much without giving the plot away, so…just don't rip me a new asshole. Please?_

_Anyway, I also need to tell you all, that while I'm** still** writing, I have **another story** to write as well, not to mention that school just started and I'm working also. A bit more of a load than I had last quarter, so I'm just letting you all know now that there will **probably be huge delays **until Spring break, and even then…I'm going out of town for break…but it's only a week long, so don't fret. :D I really want keep the quality of my writing up, rather than just trying to get the story written, and shucking it up on the 'net. So I hope that doesn't disappoint too many of you, I'll try to do the best I can, but school comes first. (God knows I'm paying enough for it.)_

_So! Chapter nine will most definately be delayed, although I'm almost finished with it...but I really want to get on to working on "Discoveries From Within," as it's been sorely neglected and this story was supposed to be second, anyway. But I'll still write when inspiration hits, so don't fret. _

**Reviews:**

**Tinas74: **Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you liked the girl-talk and Draco's confusion.

**Twodollartrick: **You're welcome for the kind words. I'm here if you need me. And no, I don't think there was anything cryptic in that comment. Originally, it was just a saying…and then I re-read it and realised that it may come across as meaning that I'd try to change your…you know, sexual orientation. (I probably couldn't, anyway, but there's always the experimentation/one night stand thing...)

Jesus Christ, please ignore what I just said. I'm off my rocker today. I swear. 

BTW, I've been wondering this for a while, actually, but I was afraid to ask what you look like. I have some weird mental picture in my head, and I'm sure it's wrong. Just a description is fine. But pictures are cool too! ;) I always like knowing the face of whom I'm talking to. (I'm crazy, I swear, but not in that weird web-stalker way. I just like intellectual conversation, and…probably something you wouldn't be willing to give me, although I do tend to have a thing for gay men... (God, did I just write that? I hope no one else reads this response…bloody hell. Just…don't ask.)

And as usual, I'm happy that you liked the Hermione/Ron relationship thing. I'm trying to keep everything as real as possible. Which means I need to keep my bloody run-away humour out of some of the scenes…I have a habit of putting stuff in there where it's not appropriate, but Eva seems to like it alright, so what the hell. (Like that scene at the beginning of chapter five…that last "laid" comment was a last minute thing…I was trying to keep the scene more morose, but my humour got in the way…but it works, anyway.)

And seriously, I thought I was going to either laugh myself to death or my heart was going to burst out of my chest when I read that you wanted to defend Raven against Hermione! It was endearing and funny all at the same time. I'm still surprised that someone could like Raven so much. Most of everyone else, minus a small handful, don't like her at all. (One person says they might not even be able to keep reading because of her, even though they love my writing! Isn't that sad?)

Don't worry about telling me whatever strikes your fancy at the time. Like I said, I'm here to listen, and to be your friend, even though I can't give you hugs and all that. (At least I'll know someone in the UK when I go there…at some point. Hopefully. God dammit, I'd better get there before I die…preferably within the next few years…I have this weird fantasy of meeting Dan Radcliffe and Tom Felton…man, it sucks that they're so much younger than me...I'd marry either of them in a heartbeat. Or shag them.) Jesus, there I go again! I can't believe the stuff that comes out of me sometimes…where everyone can read it…ah, fuck.

Anyway, have fun, and I can't wait for the next part of A Spider's Web!

Love ya,

XOXOX

Rae

P.S. Have you noticed these things get more and more like e-mails every time? (And I obviously have serious sexual tension issues that need to be resolved? Bloody hell.) I really hope no one but you reads this.

**Rit-Globe:** I am happy, that despite your obvious dislike of Raven, that you think my story is so well-written. I've never thought myself to be a brilliant writer, but maybe, with your encouraging words, I can (or should) put some of my creative energy into writing something I might actually be able to get published. ;)

I was wondering if you might be more specific as to what exactly you like about how I write Draco and Harry. (I'm weird, I always like to know the specifics.) If I can do that more, I think my story will be that much better. And I'm glad you think Hermione and Ron are as nosy as they should be. I'm trying to keep them in character as much as I can, with the obvious changes of time and great ordeals to add to their memories and experiences. I do hope you keep reading, and commenting, regardless of your views on certain characters. I'll take the good with the bad. :D

P.S. I hope you got my e-mail...

**Lyonessheart: **I'm really glad you think that Raven is a well-rounded character. It's easy to write her like a real human being, but at the same time, I need to give her that extra kick that makes her a Slytherin. (She's loosely modelled off of me…like if the world were _my_ way; I'd probably be just as devious and manipulative as her. (_And probably keep both of those guys to myself,_) But I'm such a sodding Gryffindor, it's sad, really.)

And I appreciate your comments on Draco's confusion and the type of healing Harry's had the past few years versus what Ron and Hermione have had. That's exactly what I was trying to convey. I'm glad you'll stick around and keep commenting. I really enjoy constructive criticism. If something isn't coming through properly, let me know! That's the sort of stuff that helps me the most! XOXOX, Rae

**MyOriginalIntent: **I'm glad you found that there were seven chapters! Yes, does that sometimes…it's annoying, to say the least. And you can profess your undying love and adoration without flowers, although I like flowers…I don't have a particular favourite, though. Yeah. I'm crazy today, don't mind me. Is there anything specifically you like about the story or just everything in general? (I know I usually wait until I'm at the end of the last chapter written to write a review too…unless I have something specific to say.) Thanks for reading, I hope you keep reviewing!

**Kat Engle:** I'm glad I hooked another anime fan! LoL. Yes, I'm into anime…when I'm not totally obsessed with _Harry Potter_. I even have more than a few fanfictions started for InuYasha and Ranma…I just don't have the drive or the inspiration to finish them as of yet. (I'd almost curse _Harry Potter_ as the cause, but I know I wouldn't mean it.)


	9. Less than the Appropriate Amount of Atti...

**Chapter Notes: **_Whew! I finally got this chapter out! It's actually been written for a while, but then my beta had an internet crisis...no blaming her, though, she's just as busy as all of us, in fact, you should send her cookies. And bubble bath. She deserves it, she's been working hard, and is taking time out of her homework time to beta my story. So go shower Eva with love…c'mon…go…_

_So…the much awaited 'modelling' chapter is here! It isn't really all that big a deal…well, it **is**…but not in the way I'm sure all you sex-starved lunatics are thinking. Wait. I just insulted myself there. Ahem._

_So…we will be getting to steamy scenes soon…with in a few chapters or so…a lot more relationship development to go through, yet…

* * *

_

**The Bet **

**Chapter IX - Less than the Appropriate Amount of Attire

* * *

**

The next evening, after a gruelling Quidditch practice; where both Harry and Draco were tested by the strength of each other; the boys walked at a snail's pace to the locker rooms, gritty and sweaty from their workout.

"Oh hell, I haven't had a workout like that in…"

"Five months?" Harry offered.

"Shove it, Potter."

Harry laughed. "Oh, c'mon Malfoy, you know you enjoyed it."

"Even so… Why'd you talk to the captain?"

Harry shrugged. "I figured you might like the change. I know I do. Besides, I didn't want to get too sweaty for tonight."

"What, you got a hot date?"

"Yeah, with _your_ girl." Harry joked.

Draco stopped walking. "_Excuse_ me?"

Harry also stopped and turned around, smiling. "It was a _joke_, Malfoy. I _am_ meeting with Raven, but it's for her paintings."

"Oh."

"Does it bother you?"

The Slytherin shook his head. "In the past, yes. But right now…I trust you not to try anything."

Harry felt slightly endeared by Draco's admittance of trust in him. "And Raven?" he asked.

Malfoy chuckled. "I've never been able to control her. It's best just to let her do what she wants." Draco continued to trudge along, and Harry fell into step beside him.

"So she controls you, then."

"HA! Hardly. No…we just…do our own thing."

"So are you guys attached, then? I thought you were dating."

"Well, yes we are, and no we're not. We have…an 'open relationship.'" Draco quoted.

"I see."

The boys continued their slow trek to the locker rooms, their red and black uniforms sticking uncomfortably to their skin. As they neared the entrance, they found Raven waiting for them. Smiling broadly, she said,

"My two favourite people! How was practice?"

"Fine," said Harry.

"Gruelling," said Draco, at the same time.

Raven laughed, sending a pleasant chime to the Seekers' ears and a tingle through their bodies. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. So-Harry, are you ready for your first modelling session?"

"Sure, just let me shower and I'll be right over."

"Ok. Actually, could you meet me at the art wing of the library, in a…half hour?"

"Sure. See ya then," and Harry left the two Slytherins alone.

Draco approached Raven and kissed her cheek. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Potter."

"Ok…what's up?" She asked as they started walking back through the woods to Number Three.

"Let's wait until we get back to my room," the twenty-three year old said. Raven nodded, and continued on in silence until they reached Draco's room. Then Draco spoke. "Potter just told me about the modelling." He put his broom away and started peeling off his clothes. Raven 'hmm-ed' in agreement.

"Why didn't _you_ tell me?" he said. "And why haven't you asked _me_ to model for you?" Draco was obviously trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. He failed.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I thought I did tell you."

"No. You didn't." He took of his shirt and threw it in a corner.

"Are you mad about it? Because I can tell Harry-"

"No…it's fine. I just wish you would have asked me first. I never know what you're doing with your art, other than those paintings you've given me."

"I'm sorry Dray," Raven said as she hugged him, kissing his bare shoulder. When she licked her lips, she tasted the salt from his sweaty skin. "I don't mean to leave you in the dark, I just want it all to be perfect before I show it to you. Your opinion matters the most."

"You know I'll like it no matter how ugly it is."

Raven rolled her eyes. "That's not the point, Dray. You know you'd say you'd like it, then point out all the problems."

"Well, of course."

Taking a breath to calm herself, Raven said, "To be honest with you, the reason I haven't asked you to model for me yet is because…I'm not ready to work on you."

"You're not ready to work on me…?" Draco looked confused at the girl in his arms.

"I've been trying to work on portraiture lately. Of you, Harry, Daphne, and Blaise…but it hasn't been working out well. I haven't had a good reference of you guys to go by. So I asked Harry last weekend if he wouldn't mind modelling for a portrait and possibly some figure studies."

"Ok…"

"And…I'm afraid to work on you. I want to, I really do, but it just doesn't feel like the right time."

"I see."

"However…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, at Harry's suggestion, I've been talking to Dennis Creevey, Colin Creevey's younger brother."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "What on earth for?"

"I've decided to try my hand at photography. Not only as a separate art form, but so I can have some reference photos to work on with my drawing and painting. Dennis has been giving me lessons on how to use a camera. A muggle camera."

"A what?" the Seeker said in a serious tone, his visage darkening.

"A muggle camera. One more…revolutionised than wizard's cameras. And when I'm done with the film, Dennis is going to show me how to develop it. So that the pictures don't move."

Draco started backing away with wide eyes. "What in Merlin's name has happened to you? When have you ever wanted to do anything remotely muggle?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "Oh Draco, honestly. If I'm going to use some of the pictures to do figure studies from, I can't very well have them moving around. Same thing with my paintings."

Draco frowned. "I guess that makes sense…"

"It does. But anyway, later on, I'd like to take some pictures of you. And of you and Harry."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yep." Raven smiled.

"Will we…be naked?" The Slytherin asked, trying to repress a grin.

Raven's smile turned devious. "Oh, maybe a little."

Draco took her back into his arms. "I see what you're trying to do. You're trying to get Potter used to being around me when we have less than the appropriate amount of attire on, aren't you?"

Raven laughed. "I see that I'm slipping again. And yes, that is part of it. I'm just trying to help you along…"

"How is this a bet whether or not I can do this, if you're helping me?"

"I thought we had discussed this."

"Well, apparently I need reminding."

"And I'll tell you again, you need to figure it out on your own."

Draco huffed. "Oh, fine. Be mysterious and elusive. It's what you do best."

"I know," Raven beamed, and Draco kissed her.

"But I warn you, I'm on to you. You can't stay mysterious forever."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll believe it when I see it." She kissed him again and said, "I'd better get going. I'll see you later, love." And she walked to the door, opening it.

"Alright. Have fun," he mocked.

The dark-haired beauty cocked her head and gave him a soft smile. "Always."

* * *

When Harry walked into the library, he wasn't quite sure where he was supposed to go next. The librarian was trying to close up, so when Harry asked her where he should go, she only made a vague gesture to the antechamber of the library. 

Walking back out, Harry looked around the small room, searching for some sort of door or passage. _Oh, c'mon, I'm going to be late,_ he thought, and just as he was about to give up and go asked the librarian again, a door appeared on his left. A puzzled look passed over his face before he realised that the art wing must be similar to the Room of Requirement back at Hogwarts.

Stepping inside, he was again confronted with the question of where to go. Picking the rather obvious door, _Painting_, he stepped inside to find Raven setting up a table with green satin and cushions. She looked up when he entered.

"Harry! You all ready?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets in an anxious posture. "I guess so…although I'm not quite sure what I'm doing…"

"Oh, that's fine. I'll direct you."

Harry looked around as Raven continued to set up. "I must say though, this room was a little hard to find."

Raven finished and walked over to him, holding some black cloth. "Oh, I know. The art wing is charmed so that only those who have use of the rooms or desperately need to find someone within can enter. It helps protect our things from being lost, damaged, or stolen."

"I see."

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you first, before we start, if you had given any thought to the nude aspect of modelling."

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck. "Er…not really. I didn't think about any part of it, really."

"The reason I'm asking is because I honestly can't think of a good portrait idea to do for you. Those usual 'sitting in a chair' or whatever just doesn't seem right for you. A portrait should say something about a person, and I can't think of anything to suit you just yet."

"Oh. Well that makes sense. So you'd…like to do a nude of me?" His blush was now moving onto his ears.

"Yes, if that's alright. It won't be frontal though, if that's what you're worried about."

The raven-haired boy's blush became more pronounced at the insinuation. "O-only a little."

Raven smiled. "It's alright to be nervous. We don't have to do it, if you don't want to-"

"No, it's fine. Really, I…I want to."

"Only if you're sure, Harry."

Harry nodded, gathering his Gryffindor courage, determined to see it through. "I'm sure."

His Slytherin counter-part beamed. "Great! Here's a robe, you can change in that little room over there," she pointed to a door in the corner.

"Ok," he said, going over to the room and stepping inside. As he stripped off his clothes, he felt another bout of nervousness creep up in his stomach. He hadn't ever been nude in front of a girl before, and he was afraid of what she'd think of his scars let alone his body in general. The Quidditch locker rooms had relatively private stalls, so he didn't really have a problem being seen there. But the questions still ran through his mind. Was he attractive? Did he still look like a knobbly-kneed boy? Harry never really tried to look at himself in a mirror, and he didn't really think that he'd be the best judge of that sort of thing anyway. Slipping the black robe over his shoulders and tying the sash, he padded his way out into the other room.

Raven was standing on the other side of the made-up table behind a canvas and a small worktable. She was wearing a dark green smock over her shirt and skirt, and squeezing little blobs of colour onto a palette, mixing a few of them together with a knife-looking tool.

"So, er…what should I…how do you…" he gulped, "…want me?"

Raven gestured to the table vaguely. "On the table, in the middle of the pillows, your back facing me." She didn't even look up, and so Harry moved around the table, stopping suddenly as he caught his reflection in one of the darkened windows. His stomach did another nervous back flip.

"Can anyone…_see_ us in here?"

Raven's eyes followed Harry's gaze. "No, they're enchanted to look like walls on the outside." And then she went back to mixing.

"Oh, ok." Harry gulped his nervousness down and shifted to take off his robe. Sure that Raven wasn't paying attention, he faced away from her and untied the sash, letting the robe fall off of his shoulders and to the floor. Quickly, he climbed up on the table, sitting down amongst the satin.

But what Harry didn't know was that Raven was paying _very _close attention. When Harry stepped out of the changing room, she immediately tried to school her features into cool indifference, to help make Harry feel more at ease. But the second he turned around, she was gazing in rapt attention at _everything._ The way he nervously untied the sash of the robe, and the oh-so-perfect way it slid off of his tanned skin to the floor. The smooth planes of skin over muscle, which were tense and toned from his earlier workout. The way those muscles rippled as he climbed onto the table, and the absolutely adorable flush that took over his body as he tried to do it quickly enough that he didn't reveal anything. Then his quiet and anxious voice broke her out of her reverie.

"Is sitting ok?"

"Ah…yes. Yes, I want you to sit." Raven let out a quiet breath, looking away and trying to ignore the personification of a god sitting just five feet from her. _You're an artist…act like it!_ But try as she might, the memory of Harry's perfect body as he stood in front of her, even if it was only a for a second, wouldn't leave her alone. _And he has such a nice ass, too…so firm and…shite, this is going to be challenging._

Now, Raven hadn't been _completely_ lying when she told Draco a week or so ago about checking out the boys in the Quidditch locker rooms. It's just that she couldn't quite gain access to the _shower_ part, and so had only ever seen the ex-Slytherin and Gryffindor shirtless at most. And never at the same time, either. Draco didn't really fancy showering in the locker rooms, and so he always went home first. And Harry never got completely undressed until he was in the showering area first, so her view of either boy was rather limited.

And Harry was everything she had imagined and more. _God, this is going to be hard to work around…if I was a guy I'd have a raging hard-on. As it is…_ Taking a deep breath, she turned back to direct Harry some more.

"Raven, are you ok?" Harry asked at Raven's lack of spoken word.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. Just finishing up some mixing…"

"Ok."

Cleaning off her knife she said, "Ok…now, if you could raise your left knee up, and rest your arm on it…"

"Like this?"

"Yeah. And put your other arm in your lap…yes, like that…and tuck your right foot under your other leg…uh-huh…and um…" Watching Harry was mesmerising, and she was having a hard time thinking about what she wanted him to do. _Does Harry have this effect on everyone? _Well granted, she was probably the first girl to ever see him this unclothed…"…Your head, if you could turn it just slightly to the left…yes! Perfect. Oh, and could you take off your glasses? I forgot about that." Raven looked at her model for another moment, and commented, "Harry, you need to relax. You look really tense. It's one thing for your muscles to be pronounced and toned because you just had Quidditch practice, but it's another thing to have them be all tense. It doesn't look natural."

"Sorry," was the sheepish reply.

"No, it's fine. Just take some deep breaths." Harry did as she instructed, and found that it really did calm him down a little. But then she said, "Oh wait, don't move, I want to mess with your hair…" Harry heard her move over to stand just behind him, which made him tense up a bit again, but it all melted away as her fingers started running through his hair, mussing it up as she saw fit. It caused that pleasant and erotic tingle to run down his spine, and he shivered slightly in reaction.

Raven noticed this, and smiled slightly. "Are you cold?" She asked.

"Er…no." Harry tried to come up with some type of reason for his reaction, but found all words leave him as Raven's hands slipped onto his shoulders, rubbing them a little. He jumped slightly at the sudden contact, and suppressed a strange gurgle in his throat. He'd never been touched that way by another person before. He found it rather comforting, yet somewhat arousing at the same time.

"You still look a little tense," the girl said in explanation, as she rubbed at his shoulders a little. When Harry started visibly relaxing again, she eased the pressure off of his shoulders and stepped away, going back to her place behind the canvas.

Harry's skin suddenly felt odd without the warmth of Raven's hands, but he shifted slightly to his original position, still relaxed from the mini-massage. He wasn't quite sure what the cause of the small tingling in his belly was, whether it was because he might like the girl, or because of the circumstances. He glanced down, and noticed that he didn't really have much of an erection, thankfully; he wasn't sure how Raven would have reacted to something like that. But at that moment, he didn't really care. _Have fun, live life up,_ was his new motto. Not that he had one to begin with, but it's never too late to start.

The Slytherin took out her wand. "Ok…now for the lighting." She pointed her wand at the ceiling of lit candles, and brought a few down to hover just to the right of Harry, in various heights and angles, so that a majority of his back was plainly visible, but there were good shadows cast on the musculature of his shoulders and leg. She placed one candle to his left, to highlight the small patch of face that was showing, and brought a few more down near her, so she could have better light. Then she extinguished a majority of the ones still up near the ceiling, so that there was no interfering illumination.

Setting down her wand and picking up her graphite and eraser, she asked, "Ready?"

"Yep."

As she started drawing she explained the different parts of the process. "First I'll do a quick sketch of you, so that I have something to paint over. This is kind of a long process, so I hope you got plenty of sleep. I don't want my model falling asleep on me."

Harry chuckled quietly, relaxing even more. "No, I'm good. I'm comfortable, but not so much so that I'll fall asleep."

"Good. Once I've gotten a solid figure going, I'll let you have a break to stretch. The painting is the major part. I've already set up my canvas, but I've never really used this type of paint before, so this is a bit of an experiment for me."

"Oh? Did you get some other paint?"

"Yes. I haven't had a chance to tell you this, but I've been talking with Dennis Creevey."

"Really? Decide to take my advice?"

Raven smiled. "Yes. He's showed me few things with a muggle camera, and then took me to a nearby muggle town to show me where I can get more film and all that. There was an art supply store nearby, so I decided to get some muggle paint. It was kind of funny, actually. Dennis had to pay for it all, because I didn't have any muggle money at the time. I actually feel kind of bad, he said it was expensive. But I've paid him back, after many hours of trying to figure out the proper conversion to galleons," she laughed. "And I've tested it out a bit, and it seems to be the same as wizarding paint, except you can't charm it to move. I've tried. I think there's some magical property in wizard's paint that allows you to make it move."

"That makes sense. Some sort of magical ingredient no doubt."

"Yes, I agree. Anyway, I was also wondering if you wouldn't mind if I took a few pictures of you at some point."

"Sure, I don't mind," Harry automatically said, and then remembered that had it been anyone else asking, he would have said no. Funny, how over the course of a week, your outlook on life and people can change so much. It baffled him really, that he felt like he could be so open with Raven, and in a way, even Malfoy, like he never could with Ron and Hermione. If they ever knew that he was posing nude for paintings, they'd probably both have incredulous fits of confusion, before passing out from a brain overload. To think that Harry Potter was posing nude for paintings and possibly photographs. Well hell, there's a first for everything.

After a few moments of silence, Harry finally asked, "Raven?"

"Yeah?"

"You said the other day that you thought I was beautiful. Why do you think that?"

Raven smiled again at the question, finishing up her sketch and grabbing her paintbrush. "Anyone with two eyes can see that you're beautiful Harry. But I was also talking about your personality. Sure, you're just like every other sodding Gryffindor, with all your courage and curiosity, but you're not the perfect hero everyone makes you out to be. I noticed that right away, when I actually started noticing you, that is. You have flaws, just like everyone else."

"Are you implying that all you Slytherins aren't perfect, like you make yourselves out to be?" Harry asked playfully.

The dark-haired girl laughed. "Yes, I suppose that's what I'm implying. But honestly, you're a real person, Harry. Not some fluffed up idiot who thinks they're better than everyone else, like I hear Gilderoy Lockhart was before he lost his mind."

Harry smiled at the memory of his second year. But instead, he asked, "And what about Malfoy? Doesn't he act like he's better than everyone else?"

Raven paused in her painting of the background. "Yes, I suppose sometimes, he still does. But he's changed, Harry. He's changed a lot. Even in just this past week."

"Why do you think that is?"

She continued in applying the colour to the canvas. "That's simple, Harry. Because of you."

"Me?"

"Yes. Over the past week his opinion of you has changed to be completely different. Sure, for a while now, he's had some sort of respect for you, based on what he's heard you've had to go through, but he still never connected that with a personality. I think now that he's getting to know you, he's realising that he'll never be able to hate you forever."

"Did he tell you all of that?"

"No, it's just something I've noticed about the way he's been acting and what he says lately."

"You're really observant, aren't you?"

"I have to be. You learn to read people very well, when you're a Death Eater. But I've always been like that, honestly. I watch everything and everybody and so when anything's amiss, I know about it instantly. It comes in handy even when it's just a matter of your best friend being moody or not and what the cause may be."

"I see." A moment of silence passed and then Harry said, "So have you…do you watch me?"

"Yes, I have."

"That's how you knew I was still dealing with the war, didn't you?"

"Yes, it is. Does that creep you out?"

"In some ways, maybe. It's like I've got my own stalker," he joked. "But it's a little comforting too, to know that someone was watching me, and was worried about me."

"I was. I was worried about you. You seemed so depressed, and I didn't know how you'd take to me just walking up to you and asking you if you were alright. It's not like we've ever talked before. And as to your stalker comment, I didn't stalk you, or follow you around or anything. I just watched you whenever you were around. Took notice of how you interacted with people, that sort of thing." She changed paintbrushes, and now started mixing the proper skin tone to work on the figure of Harry himself.

"Well, that's good to know."

Raven giggled. "I suppose."

After another few moments of painting and scrutinising, Harry spoke. "I don't mean to come back to the topic, but…what is it exactly that you find attractive about me?"

"Harry, don't you look in a mirror?"

"Not really, actually. I know I can never do anything about my hair, so I don't bother looking to see if I'm brushing it all right."

Raven laughed. "Well, that doesn't matter, anyway. I think your hair is one of your more charming assets."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's…kind of sexy, you know? Like you just got off your broom." _Or just had the shag of your life…_

"Really? It always looks likes like a rat's nest to me."

Raven laughed again. "You know, that's what Draco said too. I think you guys just have poor taste. Anyone with a sense of the sensual could see that your hair makes you devilishly handsome."

"If you say so…"

"I do. And that's what matters."

"Anything else you like about me?"

"Your eyes. They're similar to mine, in a way, and I think that's why I like them, other than the fact that they express more about you than anything else."

"Merlin, you really _are_ observant, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes, very. And let's see...I suppose that now that I've basically seen you naked, I do enjoy the view."

Harry's face flushed and a bit more blood travelled south. "Er…thanks." He mumbled.

"No problem," the girl said in an upbeat tone.

There was a light pause before Harry said, "I guess I just don't understand."

"About what?"

"How you could love Malfoy and like me at the same time."

"Yes, I suppose that is a little odd, isn't it?" She replied, changing paint and working on his hair. "I'm not really sure how to explain it. I've loved Draco for a long time. We've never really done much of anything, other than tease each other…and then I just kept noticing you, especially in the last year or so. And the feelings I was having just wouldn't go away. I don't think it was pity, or anything like that. I did think, at one point, that perhaps it was just a little crush, and I suppose in some ways, it still is. I never really _knew_ you. I had never talked to you, but yet, I _did_ know you. I noticed things about you that everyone else took for granted. I listened to you, even when you thought no one was. I learned all I could about you…in hopes that some day; I could talk to you, and tell you that you weren't alone. And then all it took, was a conversation with Draco, and the rest…you know."

"That he decided to talk to me, so that you would be happy."

"Yes." And then an amusing thought occurred to her that she had to voice out loud. "I guess I just have enough love in me to go around a few times."

Harry chuckled at that, and then went back to his thoughts. _Well, I suppose she answered that question, but how do I feel about her? I don't know. She's pretty…beautiful, even, that's obvious. And she's…a lot different than I thought. She wasn't afraid to admit that she wants me, which is thrilling, in a way, even if she's attached to Malfoy…she understands me in a way that I don't think anyone's ever bothered to understand me before. _Harry sighed a little. _Oh, fuck. I think I'm starting to fall for her. I'm pretty sure. I mean…we almost kissed yesterday! _

_And now Malfoy's **really** going to kill me._

After a few moments of silence, Raven cleaned off her brush and said, "Okay, I'm done with the basic shapes…you can take a break now, if you want."

"Er…ok."

"Do you want to see what it looks like?"

"Sure." Harry started to move, but halted, unsure of how to go about getting off the table and getting the robe.

Raven seemed to have sensed this ahead of time, and moved around from behind her workspace. "You don't have to move, I'll get your robe."

Harry felt another blush rise in his cheeks, for some unknown reason. "Thanks."

Raven's voice was now right behind him. "No problem." Harry then felt the silky material around his shoulders, and started slightly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"N-no. That's fine." Harry sensed that Raven had moved away, and slipping his glasses back on his nose, he shifted to his knees and pulled the robe around him the rest of the way, tying it off.

"I'm really sorry if I've been making you nervous, Harry." Harry turned around at the girl's voice, and smiled shyly.

"You haven't really. I'm just…" he chuckled slightly as he hopped off the table, "I've never been naked in front of a girl before…in front of anyone, really." He shrugged. "It wasn't so bad."

The Slytherin smiled shyly as well. "Well that's good to know."

Harry walked around the easel and looked at what Raven had so far. She immediately went into a rushed explanation of why it looked the way it did. "It looks sort of odd without the shading and stuff. I just got the base colours down for your hair, body and background. It'll look less like blobs of colour when it's done."

"I think it looks great."

"Harry, it's not even close to being finished."

"So? It's still better than I could have done." But Raven rolled her eyes.

Just at that moment, there was knocking at the door, startling the two raven-haired beauties. They turned to the door, as it opened slowly, and Draco's face emerged from behind it.

"Raven? Potter?"

Harry immediately tensed, like he had been caught in a compromising position with Malfoy's girl. Well hell, in a way he had; he was only wearing a thin silk robe, after all.

Draco walked fully in the room, turning around and directing, with his wand, a large, covered silver platter, which was floating eye-level from the ground. Closing the door with his heel, Draco directed the platter to a small table next to the windows.

"I brought you guys dinner…is that alright?"

Raven smiled and moved over to give Draco a kiss on the cheek, which he returned. "Yes, of course it is." Harry's stomach twinged slightly at the show of affection. That's what he wanted. He wanted to be able to show subtle affection for someone like that. To have someone to show it to.

Draco glanced over at the frozen Harry. "You guys done already?" he asked, taking in the black silk robe the Gryffindor was wearing, and the ridged stance he had. Did he miss something?

"No," Raven said, lifting the cover off of the food, letting the smell of chicken and pasta waft over her. "We're just taking a break. Ooh, Dray, this looks good."

Draco removed his gaze from the other boy a second to look back at his love. "Thanks, babe." Turning back to Harry, he said, "So, Potter…how's it going?"

Harry gulped hard and said nervously, "F-fine." Raising an eyebrow, but deciding not to comment, Draco turned back to the tray of food and lifted a bottle of wine from it, and three fluted glasses. Placing the glasses on the table, he said,

"I brought us some wine too."

Raven, who was dividing the food up onto three plates, grimaced. "I don't like wine, Dray."

The blonde turned to her. "What?"

"I said, I don't like wine. Transfigure it into grape juice or something, will you? It looks the same. Sort of."

"I am not about to drink _grape juice_ of all things with my supper, Raven."

"And I'm not about to drink _wine_ of all things with mine. So just conjure me up a bottle of grape juice, will you?"

Harry watched the word play with wide eyes, like he was there and he shouldn't be. But having Draco's piercing silver eyes off of him eased the tension he had felt when the blonde had walked in. But the second those eyes turned back on him, to ask for some support, all he could blurt was, "I'm just going to…change. I don't want to…to ruin this robe." And he scurried off to the room in the corner, disappearing inside.

Draco's pale brows furrowed in confusion for a second, before he turned back to Raven. "Is…everything ok? Potter seems awfully nervous."

"Yeah, well that might be because _you're_ here."

"What? Why?"

"He was jumpy enough about doing this. He's insecure, Draco, honestly." The girl shook her head in exasperation. "Insecure about how he looks, probably insecure about how he feels…if he feels anything at all…" she muttered, and Draco cocked his head. "But then," she continued before he could comment, "just when he was relaxing more, you came in, and changed things. He probably feels odd because I'm supposed to be with you, not painting nude pictures of him."

Draco set the bottle of wine back on the table. "I see. Should I go then?"

Raven sighed. "I don't know. Maybe…you should just talk to him. Reassure him that you don't mind about all this. Or something."

Draco thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Ok. I'll be right back."

Raven watched as the love of her life went to confront the fantasy of her life, in a small room in the corner.

_Fuck._

Yeah, that just about summed it up.

While Draco thought that Raven had the entire situation under her control, she, on the other hand, thought she had too. And then…whatever…the hell happened the evening before screwed everything up.

While it made sense for Harry to start liking her, as he probably had no predisposition to even think of Draco that way, it was becoming a problem. Other than this modelling thing…Raven knew she needed to get out of the picture, and soon. Or it would never work out the way it was supposed to.

But then, how it was supposed to work out, Raven wasn't so sure of anymore.

* * *

Draco walked over to the little door in the corner and knocked. 

"Y-yeah?" he heard Harry's voice from behind the wood.

"Potter, it's Draco. Can I come in for a moment?"

Harry paused in the buttoning of his jeans. He had just slipped them on, and was still topless. "Er…ah, yeah."

The door opened, and allowed more light to filter into the poorly lit room. Draco stepped in and then closed the door behind him, causing the room to almost blackout for a moment, while both men let their eyes adjust to the lack of proper lighting.

Once Draco could see properly, he found that he wasn't quite sure what to say. It probably didn't help that his (what felt like a lifetime ago) rival was only wearing a pair of jeans, and looked quite good without a shirt on. Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, he said, "I guess…I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Rubbing his upper arms self-consciously, Harry furrowed his brow. "Sorry? About what?"

"About…" Draco trailed off, averting his eyes from the topless man just a mere two feet away. _Merlin, this room is small…_"About bursting in, I guess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

But Harry just waved him off nervously. "It's alright. This is…kind of an odd situation."

"Yeah…" God…why did he feel so nervous? Malfoys don't get nervous…_Damn you, Father._ "Well…I just wanted you to know that it's fine. You modelling for Raven. She…said she wants to take pictures of me later, so…I'm not…I wasn't trying to…act like the jealous boyfriend. Like I said, I trust you not to do anything." Draco glanced back down to Harry's green eyes, and looked. Just looked. Even in the dim light, he could see the subtle differences in his eyes compared to Raven's; the brightness and the clarity of the green, and he was drawn to it…undeniably drawn…

But Draco realised that he'd been leaning closer and closer to Harry and suddenly rocked back on his heels, immediately avoiding the other man's gaze.

Harry quirked up an eyebrow at Malfoy's strange behaviour. Had Malfoy been…leaning towards him? Harry couldn't quite be sure, as he was too wrapped up in staring at Draco's eyes. His _grey_ eyes. Harry, for some odd reason, had always thought they were a pale blue. Even with all the times in the past where he's had those eyes glaring at him…with malice and utter hatred. But now, even in the dim light, Harry could clearly see that they were a soft grey colour. And not full of malice and hatred, as Harry was so used to, but more like…searching. But searching for what? It kind of unnerved him, not being able to read what Malfoy was thinking. He had just been staring at Harry, and Harry only felt compelled to keep staring back, drawn in some strange way to Draco.

There was a moment of silence, but then, Draco sighed.

"What?" Harry asked softly.

The blonde turned to him with a pained expression on his face. "Why does this have to be so bloody awkward?"

Harry regarded the other man. "I don't know." Finally, after a moment of thought, Harry dropped the nervous rubbing of his arms, and extended one hand. "I'm Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"What're you doing?"

"Introducing myself. That seems to be where we went wrong all those years ago."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You mean where _I_ went wrong, don't you?" He deadpanned.

Harry lifted up a bare shoulder in nonchalance. "Maybe. But I think we both did."

Draco stared at Harry for moment before clasping his hand. "Draco Malfoy." A small smile tweaked at the corners of his lips. Harry smiled back, just as Raven's voice could be heard in the other room.

"You guys! Hurry up! The food's getting cold!"

The two men chuckled. "I guess we'd better get going," Harry said, leaning down to pick up his shirt.

"Oh, don't bother, Potter. You're just going to have to take it all off in a little while anyway."

Harry quirked up a brow, looking up at Draco through his bangs. "What is it with you Slytherins and wanting to get me naked?"

Draco fired him a cock-sure grin. "I suppose we just have good taste, is all." And then Draco was gone, slipping back through the door, leaving Harry to ponder the true meaning of his words before slipping back out after him, still topless.

* * *

_A/N: I was actually going to end this scene a little differently. Eventually, on my yahoo group's site (see my homepage) I'm going to do a sort of…'special features' thing-ya know, deleted scenes, unused ideas…chapter names that were never used…that sort of thing. So, you'll probably see where I had originally thought for the ending of this scene, along with reasons why I didn't go that direction. But not until after the story's finished. Right now, I only have both of my stories and a few map layouts there, including the one for the dorms of the B.I. I'm going to be getting up a colour map of Rookwood, as well as Harry's and Draco's rooms individually._

_Anyway…not entirely sure how long this next break will be…a week or two. School's not getting any less busy. But I think part of that is my inability to get off my arse and do my homework on the LONG, EMPTY weekends I been having lately. Yes. I need to remind myself of that more often._

**Review Responses: **

**Twodollartrick: **Ah, Jordan, the love of my life.

Now that I'm through embarrassing the shit out of you, I'd like to take the opportunity to say that I'm sorry if I _have_ been embarrassing you. You know…with my last few responses…sexual tension is a bitch. And that's all I have to say about that.

I'm glad you think I'm pulling the Ron/Hermione thing off well. Someone else asked if their wedding was going to come into play…and to be honest…I had almost forgotten about it. But now that I've been thinking…well. It could go a couple of different ways. Happy or sad. I'll let you figure that one out on your own.

And I'm happy that you like that description of Harry and Raven. I kinda like it myself. :D And as for the modelling…well, here's the beginning, and it's only going to continue. This was just the set-up really.

And the KISS! Yes…a bit of ingenious on my part. Some people might not like it, but oh well. It makes more sense than Harry just falling in love with Draco, in my opinion. Granted, if Raven were generally out of the picture, like she was _originally_ _going_ to be…there wouldn't be that problem. But I think it's more fun this way, don't you think? Life's hardly ever just two people falling in love…I should know. There's been more than enough times that I've found myself torn between two people, even though I knew without a doubt that I wanted to marry the one I was actually with at the time (that'd be Jesse). And I feel really honoured to know that you love Raven so much…it's surprising really, and I'm actually wondering why you do. (Is it 'cause she's just a kick-ass character and I write her so well, or is it 'cause she's practically me?) I'm assuming the former, considering you don't know me all that well, I suppose. As for the bet coming into play, and Harry finding out about it…Malfoy'd be in just as much trouble as Raven…but we'll see about all that. ;D

Love ya, babes. Stay well. XOXOX

Rae

**Kat Engle: **Yes…the kiss…it is interesting…and you're right, modelling will not be uneventful. And I didn't know they made an anime of Gravitation…I've read a good portion of the manga, though…it gets a little wonky there around the sixth or seventh volume…but it's good! I'll definitely have to check that out! Thanks!

**Demitria Miriam: **I'm sorry you don't like the het stuff. I'm actually trying to keep it at a minimum, considering this is a slash story. (And believe me, it WILL be slash. I just have to get there, first.) But again, het is a part of life, and is currently a part of Draco, Raven, _and_ Harry's life. (At least, in this story.) So…it'll take a bit to get to the slashy goodness. I'm glad you like my writing style. I'll try and keep it up. :D

**Delly:** Thank you! I'll try my hardest to keep writing so I can update soon!

**SummerRoxy: **Thanks for the vote of confidence with my currently slower writing. And as to your question about Draco and Raven's relationship…yes, she still loves him, and no, she's not pretending. About anything. Although, she's definitely coming from a different point of view than Harry or Draco. While it seems like right now, Raven is just playing the two boys for herself, all three of them are going to have to face choices about each other. Raven just happens to be the first to really realise this, is all. Draco is next, and Harry…well, Harry _will_ kind of feel like a third wheel, when in reality, he's the glue for the whole bloody mess. All of this will develop throughout the story, and will come to a head in the next few months…of story time…so the next ten chapters or so. Maybe not even that long. Exploring feelings and emotions isn't something I can just throw together, if you know what I mean, but in the end, it'll all work out. But _how_…you readers will need to find out when it happens. :D I'm evil, I'm warning you now. I think I actually gave you too much information. –shrug- oh well. And I'll try to incorporate Ron and 'Mione in there as much as I can. Actually, I need to start putting all of the characters in there…like Ginny! Gosh, I've nearly forgotten about her, and she's one of my favourites. –sigh- Well, that's my job for this next chapter, I guess. :) And as for Ron and Hermione's wedding…I almost forgot about that too…I think I wasn't' really sure how or if it would play a significant role in any relationship development…but now I have about three different ideas of where it could go. I'll have to converse with my beta about that one. Thank for pointing these things out! Its reviewers like you that keep me on my toes!

**Thank you all, and please review!**


	10. Inexperienced Friendship

**Chapter Notes: **_YAY! Another chapter gone by! And…curiously…I don't feel like I have anything to say about this one. At least, I don't think so… -shrug-_

_Oh, wait! I brought back Draco's Journal! Yes, I missed writing them, honestly. It's been a while._

_Anyways, as always, love and huggles to Eva, my beta. With out you, babe, this story would be crap. (Of course, I'm sure some people still think that, but screw them…they're just impatient.)_

_On with Chapter Ten!

* * *

_

**The Bet **

**Chapter X - Inexperienced Friendship

* * *

**

The three were now sitting around a small table, Draco and Harry across from each other, and Raven at the end. It was a cosy little setting, in a mostly dark room, candlelight being the only illumination. They talked about little things, like classes, and their like or dislike of certain teachers, at the B.I. and Hogwarts. Harry sat hunched forward slightly, trying to hide his naked torso, wondering what on earth possessed him to follow Draco out of the changing room without putting on his shirt. Maybe it was that comment about his and Raven's good taste…Shaking the strange thought away, he dug into his plate of rosemary chicken and herb pasta. 

"You're focusing on potions, right?" Harry asked, slipping a forkful of pasta in his mouth, and looking up at Draco, who was sitting across from him.

Draco swallowed his own mouthful and nodded. "Yes."

"Going to be the next Snape?" Harry joked, a gleam in his eye.

Draco made a face, but chuckled anyway, and Harry joined in while Raven smiled around her mouthful of food. Some darkened corner in Draco's mind recognised the pleasant feeling of laughing _with_ the Gryffindor, rather than _at._ "No," he replied, "at least not unless I have nothing else going for me, and I'm old and senile."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you'd just live off of your family's money," he questioned.

Draco sat back and sighed, pulling a little on the high neck of his coal-grey sweater. "I don't have my family's money," he said.

Harry looked between Draco and Raven, who gave her twin a sort of uneasy look, before glancing quickly at Draco and then to her plate. Harry realised that he had touched some sort of nerve, and thought it was best to apologise.

"Mal-Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive subject…" he started.

But Draco grimaced slightly and waved Harry off. "Potter, I don't do sensitive. I'm fine, really. I have my inheritance, but technically, I don't have it. The Ministry isn't finished with it yet."

"Finished with it?" Harry asked confusedly.

"The Ministry is using Draco's money to help pay reparations for the war." Raven put in.

Harry suddenly felt a little sad. He wasn't sure why, really. Maybe it was his newly formed friendship with Draco that made him feel that way. "Oh," was all he could think to say.

Draco picked up his fork. "Don't go feeling sorry for me, Potter. I'll still have plenty of money. But I will have to work at least a little to get my fortune up to its usual standards. The Ministry's actually finished _using _the money, but now they're auditing me. Making sure it and all of my family's possessions are legitimate, or some such rubbish. I got a letter the other day." He took a bite of chicken and swallowed quickly. "It makes no sense of course. They should have audited it first, so that they could sell any family possessions and have even more money to give away. But I suppose they needed the money quicker than they felt taking the time to audit me would be."

Harry thought about this information, but before he could voice his next question, Raven asked it for him. "So what are you going to do with Malfoy Manor and your family's things?" She sat back and sipped on her conjured grape juice (provided begrudgingly by Draco).

Draco shrugged. "Probably go through it all, selling what I don't need, keeping the heirlooms, destroying anything else…" They all ate in silence for a few moments, becoming more comfortable as they grew accustomed to each other's presence. Suddenly, Draco looked up. "What are you focusing on, Potter?"

"Medicine. I was originally planning on training to be an Auror, but I'd rather not work for the Ministry anymore," was the easy reply.

Draco raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. He looked at Raven, who just grinned at her boyfriend's reaction. "You knew, didn't you?" he accused playfully, but still feeling slightly put out that Raven seemed to know so much about someone she hadn't even known as long as he.

Raven nodded and said flippantly, "I wouldn't be his own personal stalker, if I didn't."

Draco's mouth parted in slight surprise, before casting a look at Harry. Harry was gazing at Raven and the two of them were sharing a look of amusement, before chuckling together at the astonishment on Draco's face.

"I feel like I missed something," the blonde muttered, gulping a mouthful of wine.

Harry just shook his head. "No, not really. We were just joking about Raven's fondness of watching me earlier."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, _that_ hobby." Setting his wine glass down, he said, "So, you trying for the next Pomfrey?" throwing Harry's jibe back in his face, although in a soft manner.

Harry caught what Draco was trying to do though, and wasn't offended. "Maybe. Hogwarts was always like home to me. I miss it, actually." He looked down to his mostly-eaten plate and shrugged. "But I love Quidditch, too."

Now here was something that Draco could relate to. "Thinking of going pro?"

Harry sat back and rubbed his left arm a little, feeling another bout of self-consciousness. "Maybe. I think it'd be fun for a while, but I'd like to think of settling down sometime too."

"You mean with kids and a wife and all that?" Draco scoffed in amusement, casting an unnoticed glance to Harry's uncovered span of skin.

"Draco, don't mock him! You might not get those things yourself if you're not careful," Raven admonished playfully.

Draco rolled his eyes, and gave Raven a winning smile. "You know you can't resist me, babe. Don't even think of denying it." He shot a look at Harry, who smiled back at their antics. They really were in love with each other…a fleeting thought about having at least someone to love him, at least once in his life was shoved quickly aside as the pull of maddening thoughts tugged at his mind. Harry looked once again at Draco, studying his ex-rival for a moment before voicing his thoughts out loud.

"You should smile more often, Malfoy. It becomes you." Harry thought he saw the telltale signs of a blush creeping up on the pale man's cheeks, but as soon as it was there, it was gone.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter."

"Oh, Draco, just take the bloody compliment, why don't you. You know it's true." Raven said, finishing off her plate.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mum," he jibed, and he caught her eyes, which were twinkling in some happy emotion. He gave her a little smile and continued to finish off his dinner as well.

Harry continued to smile at his company. Malfoy could be rather pleasant, when he wanted to, and his sense of humour wasn't too bad, either. Harry finished off his dinner and stood, wrapping his arms around his middle as if he was cold. "Ready to keep painting?" he said with a bit more enthusiasm than even he expected.

Draco and Raven looked up. "Sure," the Slytherin girl said, pushing away from the table. While Harry went to go change back into the robe, Raven looked back down at Draco and shared a look with him. Then she leaned down and kissed him quickly on the mouth. "You can stay, if you like. I feel bad that you haven't been involved before."

"Don't be. I'll get my turn, some day. But I'll only stay if Potter's okay with it. We want him to be comfortable, don't we?"

Raven nodded. "Yes. We do."

* * *

_27 September 2003_

_Last night, Potter modelled nude for Raven._

_I won't say that it didn't come as a shock when I found out about it. It did. Raven thought she had told me, but didn't, and so I learned it from Potter._

_I suppose I should be calling him Harry now. I need to get used to it, after all, if we're going to be friends. Which is part of what happened last night. We had come to an interesting agreement, but I'll talk about that more later._

_Potter-I mean, Harry and I were walking back from practice when he told me about the modelling. Which again, shocked me, I mean…why would Raven include Harry in her art and not me? But when I saw her, and Harry left to get ready, I asked her about it. And she spouted some strange drivel about learning muggle photography! I swear, if I didn't love her so much, I'd send her to St. Mungo's, and go straight to Potter-I mean, **Harry**, and never look back. That woman's mental I tell you._

_And the next paradox in this whole thing, deals with Harry on a different level. I mentioned in my last entry that I was finding myself slightly attracted to Harry, because his appearance is similar to Raven's…and although I'm sure that's a definite factor, I don't think that's everything._

_I visited the two while they were on a break; I had made them dinner. Which was two things on my part—thoughtfulness, and curiosity. I wanted to know if there was anything untoward going on. Not that I don't trust Harry, and I told him as much, but to be honest, I'm worried about what Raven hasn't been telling me about this whole 'bet' thing. Obviously she wants him. She's told me as much. But I don't know what this other thing is, dammit, and I want to figure it soon. Now, preferably. But I digress._

_While I was there, Harry seemed nervous, like either he didn't want me there, or he felt odd about being naked in front of my girl. And I don't blame him. I'm sure I'd feel odd too, although I seriously doubt I'd pose nude for anyone other than Raven. Anyway, while Harry was changing back into his clothes for dinner, Raven suggested I go talk to him. And I did._

_And Merlin, has adulthood been kind to him. I think it was more than obvious that he would look different than Raven in **that** respect, but I hadn't quite expected what I saw. It's not like I ever stick around after Quidditch practice, after all. And he's always dressing in such baggy clothing…it really doesn't do him justice. Don't get me wrong, I didn't see him naked…at least, not at first, but I did see him topless. Actually, he stayed that way throughout dinner, which was a pleasant affair. And now, I can only imagine what he looks like farther below. _

_And now we get to the question of my sexual orientation._

_On any normal day, I'd say 'girls only,' without another thought. But Raven's opened my eyes to something else entirely. I haven't been going out of my way to see my dorm mates unclothed, but what puzzles me, is that when I have seen them, it's done nothing. But the second I saw Harry in the changing room…I felt like I couldn't breathe. So…am I gay? Or bi, at least?_

_I don't know. Harry and Raven are the only ones who seem to do it for me._

_Which is interesting, really. I watched them, all last night, through dinner, and through the rest of the modelling session (which, surprisingly, both parties let me stay for, although I still didn't see anything…I was trying to be polite and not look. Ha! A Malfoy, polite!). But anyway, the two are so different, yet look so alike…and while Raven hasn't apparently shown her **very** Slytherin side to Harry, the side she is showing is only complementing their similarities to each other. At least to me. _

_I kept noticing the way Harry sat during dinner…all shy and blushing. But at the same time, comfortable. He seemed at ease, but whenever he sat back, his arms were immediately covering his torso, like he was shy that he'd been brave enough to venture out topless. Like he hadn't just been naked for a good hour or so. But that's a Gryffindor for you._

_And Raven was so light and lilting. She was totally at ease as well, and seemed to be having the time of her life. I had caught her eye a few times, and they twinkled with happiness like I had never seen before. They almost seemed to say, 'thank you'. Which puzzles me, but perhaps I was reading too much into it._

_And now I feel…rather blank. Like I'm an empty journal waiting to be filled up with the next adventure. I know that sounds odd, and completely unlike me, but Harry and I made a little more progress…we sort of re-introduced ourselves…like a fresh start from the beginning, in a way, regardless of the fact that we've known each other for twelve years. Wow. Twelve years. That's a long time to know someone yet not know them at all. But I think we're working on it. During the dinner, we all talked about ourselves…our likes and dislikes…simple trivial stuff that didn't cross into our fucked-up pasts…for the most part._

_I learned that Harry wants to be a medi-wizard. He had originally wanted to be an Auror…but found that he really didn't fancy working for our sorry excuse for a ministry (regardless of it's new leadership) any time soon. And I told him of my plans of becoming a potions master. Although I hardly want to work at Hogwarts. Maybe some day, when I have nothing else going for me, I said. Harry told me that I was predictable, following in my old head-of-house's footsteps. And surprisingly, while I thought I was supposed to be offended, I found I couldn't be. So I laughed. And Harry laughed with me. I can honestly say it felt great._

_So…now I guess we'll just wait and see how it plays out. I think…I really want to be friends with Harry now. Last night, I had hardly thought about the bet at all; about how I'm supposed to be seducing him, fucking him, and then leaving him. God, that sounds wrong. Probably because it is. Damn that conscience thing kicking in **now**. I'm not sure if I can do that to Harry anymore. _

_He intrigues me now. I want to get to know him better…but I want that body beneath my fingers too. Damn Raven and her bloody teasing. It's getting me all sexually riled up with nowhere to go._

_Hopefully I'll figure out what Raven's been talking about soon. I have a feeling I'll want to know before I have sex with him.

* * *

_

"You mind if I sit here?"

Draco and Raven looked up to find Harry standing there, a questioning look on his face.

"No, of course not. Go ahead." Raven said, and Harry gave her a charming smile. It was early Monday evening, and the three were in the library, getting started on the homework they already had for the week. Their N.E.W.T.'s were finally coming up this year, and many of the students were starting to get re-familiar with the feelings they had had before their O.W.L.'s so many years ago. Stress and panic.

"Hey Malfoy," Harry said and sat down across from Draco.

"Draco."

"What?"

"You should call me Draco," the blonde said, raising an eyebrow to hint at their agreement the night before.

"Oh…_oh_…Sorry. Hello, Draco." Harry said, trying the nearly foreign word on his tongue. It didn't have a bad taste.

"Hello, Harry." Draco replied, feeling the same about the other man's name.

"Did I miss something?" Raven asked.

Draco looked down to his essay. "No, Love. Potter and I-"

"Harry," The Gryffindor cut in, giving the Slytherin a reprimanding look.

Draco actually had the good grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, old habit."

"Likewise."

"_Anyway…_" Raven prompted.

Draco swallowed, and then re-started his explanation. "Harry and I sort of…re-introduced ourselves Friday night."

"A fresh start sort of thing?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Well, good for you two." She said, and then stood. "I'm going to return this book really quick. I'll be back in a second."

"Alright." And the two watched the girl saunter off. Draco noticed Harry's gaze linger for a just a second too long, but when the man turned around and caught Draco looking at him, he only said suspiciously,

"What?"

Draco shrugged. "So…how was your weekend?"

"Boring." The Gryffindor replied. "I'm getting ready for the N.E.W.T.'s this year, plus I have my medical classes to work on too. And I'm having a bit of trouble."

"Trouble? With what?"

Harry ducked his head. "Potions. As usual."

Draco chuckled. "Merlin, Potter, you're _still_ having problems with potions?"

"_Harry,_" the Gryffindor admonished.

"Sorry."

"And yes, I am. Sort of. I mean, it's a lot easier when I don't have Snape breathing down my neck, but…I'm just lacking the concentration and patience, I guess. You'd think that all my training for the war would have taken care of this shit." Harry frowned.

Draco frowned as well. "Well…no one can really help you with that sort of thing, Harry. That's something you have to learn on your own."

The dark-haired man sighed. "I know. It doesn't help that I've got so many different potions running around in my head, from a simple sleeping draught to the most complicated medicinal concoctions…and remembering all of the medicinal herbs…their uses and proper combinations, not only in potions, but in salves, teas and other practices is…daunting."

Draco mused for a moment, sitting back and chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. At that moment, Raven came back over with another book and sat down next to him.

"Is everything ok? You guys look…depressed or something."

"Er, no," Draco said. "We're fine." He sat forward again. "Well, Harry…let me see your class notes. For both of your potions courses." Raven raised an eyebrow, but went back to reading the new book, leaning back in her chair and propping her knees up against the desk. Harry bent over and took out a messy stack of parchment from his bag. Draco raised both of his eyebrows, and took the stack cautiously. He barely had to glance at the top page to know that Harry was in trouble.

"Potter…I mean, Harry," he quickly corrected, "it's no wonder its all a jumbled mess in your head! You're notes are just as bad!"

Harry rolled his eyes, but he nodded. "Yeah, I know. I've always been horrible at taking good, organised notes."

"Merlin, it's almost as bad as your hair…although I don't think anything could be worse than that." Raven snorted in laughter as Harry sputtered indignantly.

"Hey! Lay off the hair, will you? I get enough of that crap from Hermione."

"Well, if you'd just do something with it…jeeze…" Draco mumbled.

Harry looked exasperated. "I've _tried_, alright? But it does what it wants to. I brush it every morning, and I can never make it look any different." Draco raised a brow, as if questioning the validity of the statement. "Besides," Harry said, with a mischievous grin, "I hear my messy hair's one of my more charming qualities."

Raven blushed slightly, and hid behind her book smiling, while Draco scoffed and said, "Vanity doesn't suit you, Gryffindor."

"And you take too much stock in it, Slytherin." Harry shot back, but playfully.

Draco chuckled. "Perhaps. But honestly, Harry, have you ever thought about using some of Sleekeasy's Hair Tonic, or cutting it or something?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't like putting things in my hair. I don't want to look like you did when I first met you, anyway," Harry smirked. Draco glared, and Raven laughed. "And I've never thought to cut my hair because the last time someone did, it grew back overnight."

Now both Raven and Draco looked shocked. "How? A spell?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. It was when I was seven or so. Before I knew I was a wizard. I didn't want my hair cut, so it grew back."

"Wow…" Draco and Raven exchanged impressed looks. "So you've never had to cut your hair?"

"Nope. It doesn't grow any longer, and I don't cut it. We have an arrangement." Harry said, smiling and running a hand through his fringe.

Draco snorted. "Apparently," he said, noticing the way Harry shaking his head made his hair all the more tousled, and it looked good.

"Maybe you should try better hair products, Harry," Raven said from behind her book.

"Why?"

"Well, take Draco's hair for example. He doesn't slick his hair back anymore, but his hair's still nice and soft, and does what he wants it too. It's because he uses the best hair care products galleons can buy." Harry looked to Draco's head, and the blonde shot a sideways look at Raven. "If you don't believe me," she finished, "touch it for yourself."

Harry looked perplexed for a moment, before catching Draco's eye. "Can I?" he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Sure. Fine. Do what ever you want," and he sat back, his arms crossed. Harry stood up and walked around the table, stopping just beside Draco, who felt a nervous twitter in his stomach. Hesitantly, Harry reached a hand out and fingered the fine blonde strands, letting them run like water and silk through his fingers. Draco closed his eyes briefly at the touch, wondering if it was supposed to feel that good.

"It's so soft…I can barely feel it," Harry whispered.

"Isn't it nice?" Raven asked, and Harry nodded. He suddenly stopped what he was doing and sat down, running his hands through his own locks.

"Mine feels…horrible." Harry said dejectedly, feeling rather inadequate all of a sudden about something so trivial. Raven cocked her head at him and Draco reached out across the table and knocked Harry's hand aside, sliding his fingers through the dark mass of hair, tugging gently at it. He was surprised at how thick it was, considering he was so used to his own, which was much finer.

"It's a little coarse, but nothing a good hair treatment can't fix. Just use Sleekeasy's shampoo and conditioner line for normal hair, and it'll be like mine in no time," Draco said and sat back, satisfied with his critique and solution.

Harry looked rather bewildered for a moment. "You're scary, Draco, you know that?"

Draco shot him a devilish grin and said, "I know. Now, back to your abysmal potions notes. I think all you need to do is a little reorganising." He looked down to the top page on the stack. "You seem to have most of the information, and with just a little tweaking, we can add the missing information in, chart it all out, and you'll have yourself a perfect studying tool for your N.E.W.T.'s and medi-wizard testing."

"Really? You'll…you'll help me?"

Draco tilted his chin up. "Yes. Besides, it'll be good practice for me as well. I _am_ trying to become a potions master here. I have to know this stuff like it's my second skin."

Harry beamed. "Okay. So…do you want to start now, or…"

"Well…we have to go to practice in a half-hour…how about we hold off until after practice tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry replied, and the two ex-rivals smiled genuinely at each other.

Secretly, Raven grinned behind her book. _Perfect.

* * *

_

Hermione and Ginny had just walked into the library when Ginny suddenly jerked on the other girl's robe, getting her attention.

"Hermione!" Ginny whispered fiercely, a shocked look in her blue eyes.

The bushy-haired girl, who had been studying a stack of notes in her hand, turned to her study companion. "What?"

"Look!" The redhead pointed over to a table down the row. Hermione followed her gaze and found Harry, her best friend, standing next to a petulant looking Malfoy, and running his fingers through the blonde's hair. Raven was sitting next to Malfoy, her eyes glued to a book.

"What on earth…?" Hermione breathed, just as shocked as Ginny, who knew next to nothing about the situation involving Harry, Raven and Malfoy.

Then Harry dropped his hand, running it through his own hair, and sat down like he was defeated. Hermione and Ginny watched, almost petrified to the spot, as Malfoy reached forward and ran his own hand through Harry's hair, before sitting back and saying something. They watched as Harry seemed to say something back (they didn't know for sure, since his back was facing them,) and then Malfoy grinned, talked some more, and then grinned again, before going back to whatever the stack of papers in front of him had in store.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look before the younger Gryffindor said, "Have I…missed something? I mean, Seamus told me that Malfoy went over to Number One to talk to Harry a few weeks ago, and Ron mentioned once something about Raven and Malfoy wanting to become friends with Harry…that's what going on, right, Hermione? I mean…didn't that seem just a bit…strange to you? _Especially _between those two?"

Hermione glanced back over at the mismatched trio. "I…yes. It did seem a bit odd. And yes, I do think that it has something to do with the friendship thing. But…Ron, Neville and I have promised to let it all be. Harry doesn't need any of us interjecting in his life right now. Let's let him make his own decisions about Malfoy. And Raven." Ginny frowned slightly, but nodded.

"Okay. But I still feel like I'm missing out on something. Has there been anything else?"

Hermione frowned in thought, moving over to the nearest empty table and setting her bag down. "Sort of. The fact is, that Raven likes Harry. In a romantic way."

"She _what_?"

"I said-"

"No, I heard you, but…wow. I wasn't expecting that," the youngest Weasley said, setting her own stuff down and sitting across from Hermione; she could see the back of Harry's head from where she was. "So she really likes Harry? It's not just a trick?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, she really likes him. So much so that she's willing to be whatever Harry needs her to be."

"What does that mean?"

Hermione paused, trying to find the best way to put it. "Basically, we've all been so caught up in rebuilding our own lives and educations to realise that Harry's still hurting from the war. It seemed like he moved on, and we believed him, but in actuality, he just became a really good liar."

Ginny's face fell. "Gosh, now I feel like an utter cow. Harry's practically family! In fact, he's been an honorary Weasley for years! How could we not make sure he's happier than anyone else on earth? He deserves all that _and_ more."

"I know." Hermione replied solemnly.

"So…how does Raven play in, then?"

"Raven's basically offered herself to Harry." At Ginny's almost disgusted look, Hermione quickly amended, "No, not that way. Well, sort of that way."

"Hermione, this is one of the only times you've never made an ounce of sense. To me at least," she said, thinking of her brother's and Harry's inability to grasp the mind that was Hermione Granger sometimes.

"Sorry. What I mean is that, Raven likes Harry, and told him as much. But she's also in love with Malfoy, and they are in…_agreement_ about helping Harry. Raven told me that whatever Harry needs her for, be it friend or…lover," she faltered, "that she's willing to give it to him."

"And Malfoy agrees with this?" Ginny said, cocking an eyebrow and looking altogether unconvinced.

"Surprisingly, yes. I haven't talked to him before but…" the older girl trailed off, looking over her shoulder at the male Slytherin, "but seeing _that_, today, well, let's just say that I think we're all going to have to get used to the idea that at least those two particular Slytherins will be a part of Harry's life from now on."

Ginny took this information in and assimilated it. And realised that Hermione was right. There wasn't really anything they could do to make Malfoy and Raven stay away from Harry, not to mention the fact that all of Harry's close friends, had, indeed, moved on without the lovely young man. It hurt to think that she had been so involved with moving on, and her budding relationship with Seamus, that she had ignored the one person who had always held a little piece of her heart, whether it be romantically or familial. Ginny still wasn't sure of Malfoy's involvement in the whole thing–it seemed too odd that he'd become involved with Harry as a friend, just because a fellow Slytherin said so. Especially if the other Slytherin liked Harry enough to offer to be his lover. But she was willing to trust Harry's judgement; after all, most of them wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for him. Finally, she sighed.

"Okay. I agree with you. I'm still sceptic about the whole Malfoy thing…but I trust Harry. I trust him with my life, and I'll trust him with his. I just hope he's not just giving them his heart on a silver platter."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm sure he's being careful. And as for Malfoy…Raven had also mentioned that she and Malfoy were in an 'open relationship' so I really don't think we have anything to be afraid of. If Malfoy _really_ didn't want to form some type of civility with Harry, he'd be acting more than a little miffed about Harry spending time with Raven." _And they most definitely wouldn't be touching each other's hair_ was the unspoken words between the two Gryffindors.

Ginny took out her homework and was just about to start working on it when movement from the other side of the room caught her eye. She looked up to see Malfoy and Harry standing up, putting their books and papers away. Raven looked up from where she sat and said something, and Malfoy leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Harry waved her good-bye, and the two men turned around and started heading out of the library, smiling and talking quietly. Since Hermione and Ginny were at a table near the door, Harry, as he was walking by, said, "Hi Hermione, Ginny." Hermione looked up from her notes, startled slightly.

But what really startled her, as well as Ginny, was when Malfoy said, "Granger. Weasley." And with a cordial nod and a smile shared, the two ex-rivals were out the door.

Hermione and Ginny shared a bewildered look. Finally, Ginny spoke.

"N.E.W.T.'s are coming up. Why does the world have to end _now_?"

* * *

"That was another good practice," Harry said, as he and Draco walked across the field to the locker rooms. 

Draco scrunched up his nose. "Yeah, I suppose."

"What's wrong, Draco? You did great out there tonight. It's almost as if you haven't been benched at all," Harry said, looking at his companion curiously.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought I sucked. I'm way slower than I used to be."

"So what? Just a little more practice, and you'll be playing in next week's game."

"What?" Draco turned to Harry in shock. They were stopped just outside the locker rooms, where everyone else was showering and getting ready to go home.

Harry shrugged. "I think you should play in next week's game."

"But why? Do you _want_ us to lose?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco, we're not going to lose, just because you're Seeker." He shook his head. "You may not know this, but you were really my only competition at Hogwarts. I could never really play against Cho properly, and Cedric-" Harry's sentence cut off abruptly, as his mind was suddenly flung back into unpleasant thoughts of years past.

Draco noticed the ex-Gryffindor's sudden change into himself, even in the fading light of dusk. "Harry?" he asked cautiously.

Harry's mouth turned into a grim line, and he looked back up at Draco. "I'll see you later, Draco. I need to get home and finish up my homework." And with that, the ebony-haired Seeker turned away and walked into the locker room.

Draco just stood there in confusion at Harry's abrupt departure, frowning, but realised that trying to confront Harry in the locker room would probably end badly, so he decided to try later that night to see if the other man wanted to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. Sighing, he headed back to his own room; quite ready to rid himself of his sticky Quidditch robes and take a shower.

* * *

_A/N: Urgh. Work sucks. My back's all sore, I burned myself, I gotta do my taxes, **I LOST MY HP STORY NOTEBOOK**, and…and…bloody hell. I worked ALL WEEKEND LONG! Four days straight, and didn't have a single second for homework. Blah. And didn't get very good mid-quarter grades (well, the C+ was bad, everything else was good three A's and one B, so I'm busting my butt to make sure my grades either go up or stay up. I have a standard to maintain after all. ;P Anyways, I've already started on the next chapter…but I'm trying to work on 'Discoveries' as well, and since I lost my notebook…(thankfully, most of everything in there was on my comp)…so I'm not sure how long it'll be for the next update. With the end of quarter coming up, I'll be even more bogged down. So…enjoy this chapter while it lasts, everyone. If you can enjoy it. I had quite a bit of fun with the last few scenes. I mean, could you imagine being Ginny or Hermione and walking and seeing that? I'm laughing just thinking about their reactions._

_Ok, I've rambled long enough. Talk to you all later!_

**Review Responses: **

**Twodollartrick: **Oooh! Someone's actually grovelled at me! Wow…but you really don't have to, sweetie. I'd wait until the end of the earth to get your review before the next posting. You mean that much to me.

Okay, first of all, you're reviews…I almost cry when I get them, they make me so happy. It isn't even what you say so much, is the fact that you take the time to comment on every little thing you like or notice, whether it's good or bad, and your reviews are always the longest, and…I don't know. I just feel immensely happy when I get one. I'm always waiting for them. (And I'm serious about the almost crying thing…it was just before one of my lab classes when I got it, and my eyes were all tearing up, and all my friends kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept squealing in delight…sometimes I swear if you weren't gay I'd let myself fall in love with you…) I'm sad, aren't I?

Secondly, you're funny as all hell, Love. Your little quirks are what make my day. And I'm glad you liked the modelling scene so much. I was really worried about that one. And yes, sweaty Harry and Draco…well hell, why'd you think I wrote that? (Yep, that's right, just for you, Love.) Well, you and everyone else who likes that particular mental image. :D

And I wouldn't necessarily say that Raven was trying to be seductive when she was massaging Harry. It was a side-venture, certainly. But she's still an artist, regardless of her manipulative tendencies. She was really trying to get Harry relaxed. Really, she was.

Regarding your comment about having Draco as a boyfriend. It's funny you mention that, because I've never been able to see Raven with anyone but him, but…being the Gryffindor that **I** am, me, as a HP Fan, likes Harry more. It's strange, really. But at the same time, there's just something about Draco Malfoy…(although that's probably all fabrications of us crazy Draco-loving fans…I don't remember ever thinking about Draco like this before I started reading slash…)

And again, I'm sorry you're still so confused about who you want who to end up with. And as far as the comment about someone being left out…well, let me just let you know, that I can almost **guarantee** that you'll cry at the end. And that's all I'm saying about that. :D

I love you, babe. Stay safe.

XOXOX

Rae

P.S. Yes, Harry is rather yummy, isn't he? Okay, now you got me drooling…

**novalights: **No, you haven't offended me at all! In fact, I'm glad you pointed out that you feel confused by what's going on. It seems that a lot of people are feeling that way, and I don't wish to confuse anyone, but there are reasons for writing the way I write, and what I write. I'm glad you like the story plot and everything, regardless of your confusion, so allow me to clarify your question. Currently, Draco loves Raven and is realising that he's attracted to Harry, and possibly likes him. He's just getting comfortable with the thought of having a good friendship with the Gryffindor, but seeing as this **is** a slash story, he will eventually develop feelings for him. But it will take time. Harry thinks he might like Raven, but isn't sure if his feelings are just because she likes him (meaning he's latching onto the first person who shows interest), or because he actually likes her. Harry is also in the same position as Draco in regards to the Slytherin, except he has yet to really think about Draco as attractive. That will soon change, keep on reading. ;) Raven, the biggest problem since…well she's a problem in any case, she loves Draco, likes Harry, and feels sexually attracted to both. Which, in reality, is kind of odd, and I'm really not sure how to explain that any better, even though its something I've experienced, and still no one seems to understand that it's possible to be sexually attracted to more than one person at a time. So…does that answer your question? I hope so. If not, either review, or drop me an e-mail, and I'll try to clarify more. And if you have any suggestions to make things more clear in the story, don't be afraid to let me know! I'm always open to new ideas!

**Snoopy Sayles: **I'm glad you found yourself liking Raven. She's been the topic of much controversy. I'm almost glad to say I've caused somewhat of a riot. And** y**es, Harry and Draco are just at the cusp of friendship, and are slowly working their way towards more. I'll update as much as I can! Thank you for reviewing!

**Heather:** Thank you for reviewing! I'm happy you think it's written so well. I try to keep my writing up to par with those writers that I admire, be it from FanFiction or from published authors. And I'm also glad I got you to review by putting in that little blurb at the end! (Honestly, I'm the same way…I LOVE what I read, but I don't' really take the time to review at every chapter. That, and most of the stories I read, are already finished. :P ) Please review again, if you're not feeling too lazy! Lol Thanks.

**MachiavellianOrange: **Well, seeing as I've already written you a rather lengthy e-mail…I'll just comment on a few other things. First, your second review…Yes, I'm evil. I'm happy you noticed. It's my Slytherin side showing itself. :D Almost kisses are indeed so evil. And I'm also happy that that one line Raven thought made you do your little happy jig. There won't be too much more development as far as that's concerned for a while, I'm afraid to say, but you can have my reassurances that it **will** happen. And _then_ things regarding it will be explained. Sort of a learned-after-the-fact sort of thing. So I hope reading more Raven and about her and Draco and Harry doesn't put you off. You are one of those reviewers that make writing things you can't get published worth it. I hope you continue to read, through the good and the infuriating. Thanks again for reviewing!

**King of Vaypouria:** Thanks for reviewing! And please, keep reading!

**Yukiworldwide:** I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about my story! I'm trying to write as fast as I can, but it's rather hard as of late. Hopefully, you get your 'fix' so to speak, and keep reading! Thanks again for reviewing!

**Thank you all, and please review!**


	11. Revelations

**Chapter Notes:** _First of all, I want to thank my beta, Eva, and my hooked-by-the-neck temp-beta, Jesse, the love of my life. Both of them had to deal with the multitude of questions and problems with this chapter, and I kept re-reading it and changing it even more on them! And especially to Jesse, who hates fanfiction, but agreed (reluctantly) to beta this and the next few chapters for me. Of course, I had to keep _reminding _him to read it (he's such a bloody procrastinator), but I'm grateful he did. He's the residential psychologist, and I had to make sure that where I was going was making sense, not to mention he's a guy, and I can always use a guy's opinion. We actually fought about a certain plot point for a good fifteen minutes, but he was right, and helped me work out all the bugs...so!_

_Secondly, I want to apologise that this chapter took so long to get out. It's been in beta-pending for the last two weeks. I've gotten a pretty good start on the next chapter, and know immediately where the next few are heading as far as specifics, I just have to write them. Things recently have not been very easy for me, and school is just finishing up, so finals are very much on the horizon. But anyway... _

_ On with Chapter Eleven-the longest chapter so far!  
_

**

* * *

The Bet**

**Chapter XI – ****Revelations

* * *

**

That night found Harry sitting at the edge of the cliff at the cove, dangling his legs and gazing silently at the dancing coloured lights. For some reason, Harry decided to forgo the usual trip to the beach, and come to the cove instead, mulling on thoughts that he had so far neglected in recent weeks.

As the lights swayed in a gentle rhythm, Harry sighed for the fifth time in the twenty minutes he had been there; letting the soft, yet biting breeze sweep across face. Tonight was quite cold, and Harry could smell rain in the air: a testament to the dying of summer and the birth of autumn.

Earlier, when Harry had been talking to Draco, trying to convince him to take the Seeker position for the next game, he hadn't even noticed until it was too late that he was talking about things—people—that he really tried hard not to think about normally, and had, for a little while now, not thought of at all. Harry didn't understand why, when he was with Draco or Raven, he always talked about things that he hadn't talked about before, or things that he hadn't talked about with Ron or Hermione in a long time. He didn't understand why he felt so comfortable with them. What made it so easy to open up to them, let alone anyone, when he had a hard time thinking about it to himself?

And Harry realised, that he had no real answer.

Perhaps it was because Raven had let him know, that someone outside his normal circle of 'family' cared about him, and worried. Especially when they had no reason to. And Malfoy…_Draco_, was even more puzzling. Yet here the two ex-rivals were, calling each other by their given names, joking around with each other, actually _trying_ to become friends…telling each other things that neither of them probably ever thought they'd tell one another. Harry remembered clearly, only a week ago, when Draco had told Harry what he had been through in Sanctuary. He remembered even more clearly, that Draco had held him when he cried. He felt the utter relief, sadness, and overwhelming emotions that no words could describe as he remembered when Draco had told him that he needed him. He needed him to just be Harry.

And Harry realised something that he had probably always known, but never took the time to think about, was that Draco had never really been disillusioned by Harry's status in the Wizarding World. Sure, he probably grew up with the tales of the Boy-Who-Lived, but once that spurned friendship happened, Draco held no admiration for Harry. _He probably saw me as no more than a scraggly little brat, much like what I thought of him,_ Harry thought. _Could my refusal of him really be the reason he hated me so much? Just what had he known about his father's allegiances?_

Harry supposed that that was why he had re-introduced himself three nights ago. To try and start over, although it was probably hardly needed. Draco and Harry had been getting along relatively fine, and had already agreed to try and change the status in their relationship. But the air had been so uncomfortable in that room, and Harry had extended his hand in an almost joking manner, knowing at the same time, the underlying seriousness of the gesture. Harry had felt that the gesture would mean more to Draco than words, knowing that words can be taken back, but actions cannot. Especially with the circumstances that seemed to be arising. Raven's obvious taking to Harry, and the modelling…Harry knew that it was no wonder that Draco was still feeling…insecure, for lack of a better word, at the situation. Harry didn't think he would have handled it as well as Draco had.

And just why was he letting Draco into his life? Harry still couldn't figure that one out. Although he supposed that the reason was similar as to why he felt so comfortable around him _and_ Raven, recently. They knew each other, but didn't. They knew enough to know the person, yet not enough to quell the itching of intrigue.

He knew he decided to model for Raven because it was something different; something none of his friends would ever think Harry would do. He didn't think that his friends would approve, but honestly, what did it matter if his friends approved? He could do whatever the hell he felt like doing, even if that meant spending a night naked in front of his ex-rival and his girlfriend. It wasn't their life he was living, after all.

And he had a feeling he was falling for Raven, not just because of her beauty, or her personality, but because she seemed to be the only other person who was true around him anymore, save for probably Draco. She didn't tiptoe around him, she told him the truth, and didn't bother to hide behind lies and whispered conversations about him. She actually appreciated him, and respected the fact that he had been through so much, while his friends seemed to just want to forget about it. Which in truth, Harry thought he wanted to do too. But he never really could. He just hid behind his studies and false smiles, forcing himself not to think about it. But then he'd have nightmares, and when he'd wake, he'd go down to the beach, and think maddening thoughts until he was too numb from the cold to do so anymore.

Harry sighed again, and glanced back at the woods behind him, not quite willing to admit that he had probably come to the cove in hopes that Draco would be there. Although why he'd need to see one of the people who was occupying his thoughts, he didn't know.

Shaking his head at his stupidity, he stood and brushed off his jeans, rubbing a bit of feeling back into the numb skin of his arse. _If I'm cold, there's **no way** Draco will be out here. He's too much of a ponce,_ Harry thought wryly. He wasn't sure if sitting out there for an hour or so helped him think at all, or helped him figure anything out, but looking at the twinkling lights he noticed that there weren't as many out that night. _It's probably because the moon's changing. _Harry sighed and looked up at the waning moon.

_Everything's changing.

* * *

_

It was after the tenth pebble thrown that Draco gave up at trying to get Harry Potter's attention. He obviously didn't want to be bothered, and didn't want to talk; so Draco, feeling slightly more than a little miffed, headed to the cove by himself.

Draco knew that Harry probably didn't feel like talking about whatever had made him leave so abruptly that evening, but that didn't make him feel any less put out at Harry's behaviour. _And here we were, making more progress. It's only a matter of time before I'll be expected to…_ Draco was finding it hard to think about the bet as just a bet anymore. _When did it change? Why can't I think of Harry as just a bet anymore? Bloody hell, I'm getting soft._

But then there was a little voice in the back of his head that insisted that perhaps the reason wasn't so much that he was getting soft, but that he had changed a long time ago.

_So what? Raven's changed, Blaise has changed. We've all changed. You can't go through all that shit without coming out unscathed. _Draco sighed inwardly. _And besides, even though I didn't know her all that well at Hogwarts, Raven's changed, and she's **still** a manipulative little bitch. _'Which you secretly like,' the other voice told him. _Yeah, well…I am who I am, after all, and not even Potter can change that._

'Didn't I just say that you already _had_ changed?'

"Shove off," Draco muttered bitterly out loud, becoming quite annoyed at the sudden arrival of the voice of reason in his mind. The point was, that even though he _had_ changed, that didn't mean that he still couldn't be self-serving and an all around bastard. He'd never lost his snarky attitude, after all.

'But this isn't exactly self-serving is it?' The voice chimed in. 'You're doing this because Raven wants you to…at least, that's what you keep telling yourself. _Unless_…you're counting the sexual gratification you'll get out of it, not to mention the gloating rights to say you stole the Boy-Who-Lived's virginity…'

_Shut up!_ Draco snarled at himself._ Harry's a human being, dammit!_

'Has that ever stopped you from being an ass before?'

_That's not the bloody point. I know that **now**, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let all the energy and life-sacrificing shit I've done the past few years go to waste._

'So you're saying that you actually _like_ Harry, and want to get to know him? That you'll tell him when the time comes to…complete the bet?'

**_Yes._ **It was said with such a force; he knew he shut the other voice up. But he had a sneaky suspicion that it was laughing at him. So he stopped walking, suddenly hit with the realisation that he just used reverse psychology on himself. _Is that even possible?_

"Holy fuck," he muttered, shaking his head and continuing on his way.

The next second he tensed, stopping again as he heard a loud crunching noise just a few metres away. And it was coming closer.

Taking a second to get his bearings, hoping whatever it was, a red deer, a…_badger_; would just pass him by. But he took out his wand out of habit anyway, quietly shuffling behind a tree and waiting to see if he needed to take drastic measures.

Whatever it was was _definitely_ coming closer, Draco decided, and he held his own breath, concentrating on the sounds of the…thing. It was crunching and shuffling through the leaves without abandon, not making too much noise, but far enough to be heard. Draco thought he could hear it breathing, a soft sighing sound that made Draco think about what _it_ was.

Chancing a glance around the rough trunk of the tree he was currently leaning against, he looked to see if his growing assumption was true. What he saw was a flowing black figure against the dark grey of the woods around it, moving towards him at a medium pace. A strange bolt of frightened panic shot through him—was it a Death Eater? Someone who had never been caught coming to finish a traitor off? Not thinking about anything other than the immediate fight and flight options that lay in front of him, Draco quickly stepped out from behind the tree and pointed his wand at the figure.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, and the figure immediately crumbled to the ground.

Taking a few steps forward hesitantly, Draco approached the figure with much caution. As his eyes kept adjusting to the darkened lighting in the forest, he came immediately to the realisation that he was staring at a pair of trainers. _Very familiar looking trainers_.

He just stupefied Harry Potter.

"_Ho-ly FUCK!"_ Draco swore loudly, clenching his jaw in frustration, feeling a heavy rock of panic drop into his stomach. "Goddamn son-of-a…" Crouching down, he quickly cast _ennervate_ on Harry, who gasped awake in shock. Draco's apologies bubbled out of him in a rush of panicked emotion.

"Oh God, Harry. I'm _so_ sorry. I didn't meant to; I thought you were a Death Eater…oh fuck, I'm such a fuckin' moron…"

Harry, who was altogether disoriented upon wakening, was strangely able to come to the conclusion that his sudden blackout and sequential disorientation was the doing of the panicked figure of Draco hovering over him. He groaned slightly, gurgling an 'it's okay…' and placing a hand on his forehead, before trying to sit up.

Draco immediately moved to help him, placing a hand on his back. "Merlin, Harry, I really am sorry…"

Harry waved him off though, still feeling dizzy and a little sore from falling to the ground so suddenly. Moving his hand to rub the back of his head a little, he said, "Malfoy…it's fine, really. I think…I think I can understand. After all," he smiled wryly, "we share common enemies now."

The stricken look on Draco's face softened up slightly. But then a smirk eased onto his mouth and he replied, "What have I told you about calling me 'Malfoy'?"

Harry made a face. "Sorry. Draco."

Draco grinned. "That's better."

They paused there for a minute, gazing at each other, before Draco moved, looking away and gripping onto Harry's forearm. "I supposed we should get you back to your dorm, huh?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." Using Draco for leverage and balance, Harry heaved himself up from the ground, keeping a grip on Draco for a second, just to get his bearings and let the dizziness pass. "Thanks."

"It's the least I could do."

Harry released Draco's arm and dusted himself off. He started forward tentatively, gaining more confidence as they kept walking, Draco beside him.

"So…" Harry started, "You were headed to the cove?" He glanced over at the other man.

Draco nodded. "Yeah. Actually, I had stopped by your place to see if you wanted to come, but I thought that perhaps you just…didn't want to," he ended in a soft voice, very glad for the cover of night to hide the flush he could feel coming over his face.

"Oh." Harry replied, not really sure what to say to that. Did Draco really want to see him?

"But," Draco said in a lighter tone, "it seems that I was mistaken, and that you were already there."

"Yeah, I just…needed somewhere to think."

"Moving in on my territory, Potter?" Draco joked.

"It's _Harry_. And no, I'm not trying to. Actually…I was kind of hoping you would show up," he admitted, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. "Although I wasn't quite expecting that kind of welcome," he added wryly.

Draco snorted. "It's not my fault you like to slink through the woods in the middle of the night, scaring the shit out of ex-Death Eaters."

"I was not slinking!" Harry defended indignantly.

"Yes you were. And you would have done the same thing, Harry."

"What? Stupefy anything that moved?" Harry said sarcastically.

"Yes."

But Harry shook his head. "I don't think so, Draco. If the situation had been switched, I would have used my magic to find out if you would have intended me harm."

Draco paused. "You mean…that thing you did the first time we came out here? When you recognised the badger?"

Harry looked back at him, and nodded. "Yeah."

Draco started walking again. "That's a neat trick, Potter. Sorry, I mean Harry. Merlin, that habit's hard to break."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

They walked in silence a few moments before Draco said, "Do you think you could show me?"

Harry smiled. "My 'trick,' you mean?"

Draco chuckled. "Yeah, your 'trick.'"

A minute or two later, they emerged from the woods, the light from the waning moon filtering through the edge of the trees, casting everything in a bluish glow.

"So…er…" Harry started, "I guess I'll-"

"Can I come up?"

Harry blinked. Malfoy wanted to come up? To his room? "Er…sure. I guess that's alright. It's not too late, yet."

"I won't stay for long, I just…wanted to talk a bit longer." Draco glanced to the ground, and then flickered his silver-grey gaze back up at Harry.

A sudden nervous twitter jumped through Harry's stomach, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Turning around, he guided Draco towards the patio doors of Number One, noting that a light was still on inside the lounge. Opening the door and stepping inside with Draco right behind him, he saw Seamus and Ginny snogging on one of the couches. Upon hearing the door open, they jerked apart and looked over at Harry, their eyes wide and their cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Oh! I'm sorry you guys, I didn't mean to interrupt…" Harry said, and quickly averted his eyes. He heard Draco close the door and move out from behind him to look at the scene. The red on the two freckled faces drained to white as they paled at he sight of Malfoy standing next to Harry.

"Malfoy…" Ginny breathed, her face quickly going back to the red of embarrassment.

"Hmm…I didn't know you two were dating…is this a new thing?" Draco replied smoothly, seemingly unfazed by the couple's discomfort.

"Malfoy," Seamus started, swallowing hard, completely ignoring Draco's question.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, then Harry glanced over at Draco. "Well. Um…were just going to hang out for a little while. Up in my room."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up at this, and when it seemed as though Seamus was going to say something either in confusion or protest, she put a hand on his arm. "It's alright, Seam. I don't think Malfoy's going to hurt him."

Draco took a hold of Harry's arm and started forward, leading Harry towards the foyer and stairs. He gave Ginny and Seamus a meaningful glance as they walked by. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said effortlessly, although to Harry it looked as if he were trying to hold in laughter.

"See you guys later," Harry called over his shoulder as he and Draco left the room.

"Don't wait up for us!" Draco put in, and grinning, the two men scrambled up the stairs and into Harry's room, where Harry quickly shut the door behind them, casting a spell to light the candles and a silencing charm. They looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

"Oh my god, did you _see_ their faces when they saw you?" Harry panted.

"Finnigan looked like he was going to die of embarrassment!"

"Ginny too!"

They laughed for a few more minutes, before finally settling down on the side of the bed, lying side by side.

Harry kicked his shoes off before saying, "God, I hope that never happens to me, I think I really _would_ die."

"Not much of an exhibitionist, Harry?" Draco joked, sitting up and untying his shoes.

Harry sat up, blushing. "Er, no. Even if I was, I've never had the opportunity." _Why the hell did I just say that?_ To cover up his embarrassment, Harry reached over to place his wand on the bedside table.

Draco's eyebrows rose. _Jeeze, he really is a virgin…_ "Never had the opportunity, eh? C'mon, I'm sure you have tons of girls lined up to please the Boy-Who-Lived." He took off his shoes and placed them side-by-side on the floor.

Harry's embarrassed visage turned quickly into a frown. "No. I don't."

"Really?" Draco said in honest surprise, looking over at Harry.

"Yes, really."

Draco wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so they sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Draco decided to try and change the topic. "So, Harry…I wanted to ask you…if you…" _Merlin, why is this so hard? It's just a stupid question._

"Yes?"

"If you wanted to talk about what was bothering you earlier." _There. I said it. _

"What do you mean?"

Draco swallowed. "Earlier, after Quidditch…you seemed rather abrupt in your departure. Was there something bothering you?"

Harry stood up suddenly and went to his dresser, staring at his reflection in the mirror. It was closed off, but his eyes seemed haunted, Draco noticed in concern. Harry's tone was almost monotone, barely masked with false nonchalance. "No, there was nothing bothering me. Why do you ask?"

Draco stood as well and came to stand behind the dark-haired man, looking over his shoulder. Gazing at Harry's reflection, he looked straight into his eyes and said, "I know there's something bothering you, Harry. You might be able to hide your emotions from your other friends, but your body and your eyes give everything away."

Harry sneered. "What the hell do _you_ know, Malfoy? You hardly even know me!" _What a presumptuous asshole…_

Draco could feel the rise of impatience build in him at Harry's sharp tone, but masterfully held it down. "You said earlier that you needed somewhere to think, so you went to the cove. I know you never went there before I showed you where it was, and you even admitted to wanting to see me. You _wanted_ to talk to someone Harry. About something. What is it?"

Harry whirled around the face the Adonis standing behind him. "Nothing! Why can't you understand that I don't want to talk about it!"

Draco crossed his arms and idly raised an eyebrow in question. "I think you're lying to yourself, Harry."

"Fuck you! You know nothing!"

Draco stepped forward and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and ignored the little flinch that was Harry's response. "I think you need to calm down," Draco said with a little force. "I'm not trying to force it out of you. I'm just letting you know that if you need to talk to someone, about anything, I'll be here, waiting."

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the silvery gaze. "I…" He wasn't sure what to make of the man standing in front of him. Draco Malfoy wasn't supposed to act like this…all friendly and…caring. Even if they had started to become friends…it couldn't just be that easy. It would take some time.

But Harry was tired of taking time.

He was tired of no one noticing that he wasn't okay, even if most of that was self-imposed. He was tired of waiting for someone to do just what Draco had just done, what Raven had also silently done, by offering their friendship. Letting him know that they cared. It wasn't that Ron and Hermione didn't ask him if he was okay from time to time, but when they ran into a wall, they left him be, assuming that he'd come to them when he was ready.

And Harry had spent a long time building up his walls higher and higher, so that no one could get over or past them, but Draco was the only one willing to dig _under_ them. To really make sure he was okay.

Because he wasn't. He hadn't been for as long as he could remember, and the past few weeks in all their newness and dizzy exploration of newfound friendships had only distracted him. He still had nightmares. He still showed everyone fake smiles. And he hated it. He wanted it to end.

Trying to swallow his sudden despair down, he looked up into Draco's eyes and said in a whisper, "It feels too soon to talk to you like this, but…" He bit his lower lip; "I know you've shared some pretty horrible stuff with me, and I…I need to. I need to talk about this. I know that. But it's hard."

Draco squeezed his shoulder. "I understand. You don't have to do it now if you don't want. We can just…talk. About whatever."

Harry nodded, and Draco moved over to sit on the bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. Harry followed, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on top of his trunk. Moving around to the other side of the bed and settling down next to Draco, it became apparent that neither man had anything to say. They sat in silence for a moment, Harry fidgeting with his hands and Draco chewing on his bottom lip.

In an act that could be called fairly uncharacteristic, Draco suddenly took a hold of one of Harry's fidgeting hands and laced their fingers together. Harry looked up in shock to Draco's face, taking in the worried look in the cool grey eyes.

"Draco…" Harry glanced down at their hands, worrying his own lip now, and looked back up with crystals hanging in his eyes. As he blinked and a tear fell down his cheek, he gripped Draco's hand hard and choked out, "I feel like it was my fault." He brought his hand up and rubbed the tear away.

Draco cocked his head and said softly, "What?"

"Their deaths. Cedric, S-Sirius, Colin, Dean, Padma…Pansy. Everyone. It doesn't matter what side they were on. No one should have died."

Draco's brows furrowed. "Harry… Do you really believe that all of that was your fault?"

Harry grimaced. "Yes, and no. Their screams and faces haunt my dreams, Draco. I logically know that there was nothing I could do, that I didn't kill them myself, but…"

"You still feel guilty."

"Yes."

Draco suddenly smirked. "It's amazing that we never talked earlier, Harry. I think we have more in common now than I'm even willing to admit."

Sadly, Harry chuckled softly at that admission. "You know, Draco, I think you may be right." Then he sighed heavily. "So you feel guilty too?"

"How could I not? I may not have killed tons of wizards…people we knew…but I still killed people. A _lot_ of people. I was so sickened by what I saw…what I did…I was in bed for days with a self-induced flu. My father thought I had caught a nasty muggle illness when we went to…" Draco shook his head. "And I let him believe it. I couldn't bring myself to let him down like I did in school, to tell him I wanted out." He snorted. "He was so proud of me, and kept telling me that the Dark Lord was very pleased with my work. Hearing that only made me feel more sick."

Harry nodded. "I think I felt sick all of the time." He suddenly looked up at Draco. "Draco…I'm wondering…did you mean it? Killing all those people? I mean, you must have, you can't cast the Killing Curse or any of the Unforgivables without meaning it."

Draco looked down at their intertwined hands and unconsciously traced little circles on the back of Harry's hand with his thumb. "I…I did," he admitted quietly. "But as the night went on…I wavered. I cast the Cruciatus Curse, and the Imperious Curse…and forced the muggles to kill themselves."

Harry's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in shock. "_What?_"

"Yes. I forced them to do it with their guns and their knives, while I turned the other way. By the end it was the only way to get through it." Draco's voice was nearly emotionless, as if he was telling the story under the influence of Veritaserum. He turned to Harry's frozen face. "You have to understand something about me, Harry. I grew up thinking muggles and anyone associated with them were scum. Lower than animals on the food chain, so to speak. They were to be brought to servitude if not entirely wiped out, because pureblood wizards are the only beings worth being on top."

"Oh, Draco…that's sick."

Draco nodded and looked away again, to the far wall. "I know. After killing mothers and children, fathers and babies…I realised that I never understood how I could think that way. I still don't understand it. I've accepted it, though, that it'll always be apart of who I am, even if I don't agree with it anymore. It's…taken a long time to come to grips with the fact that I really believed all that shit my father told me, but I did, and it made sense, the way he explained it. It really did." Draco paused. "But it doesn't now, and the experience I had that night…it showed me just how wrong I was. How wrong I had always been." Draco turned back to Harry. "And for that, Harry, I am eternally sorry for everything that's happened between us in the past."

Harry squeezed the hand interlaced with his own. "I should be sorry too. I didn't help. I never stopped it. I disliked you the moment I saw you in Madam Malkin's, and I hated you from the moment you insulted Ron. If I could have been a better person about it-"

"No, Harry. You were right to refuse my friendship. You wouldn't be who you are today if you hadn't. Yes, I'm sorry I was such an asshole, and that I didn't really help matters for you any, but things couldn't have turned out in any other way. If they had…" Draco shook his head. "I don't even want to think about how things might be different. I was an asshole; I didn't deserve your friendship, Harry. You chose the right path. It just took me a little longer is all," the blond said wryly, giving Harry a sad smile.

Harry furrowed his brow, but smiled back, squeezing the hand in his again.

"I think," Harry started slowly, "I think the important thing is that you _did_ choose the right path, Draco. You and Blaise and Raven. The fact that they helped you too, when no one else would…I think that shows you who your true friends are. They chose to help you, and in so doing, chose the 'right' path themselves." Draco looked over at Harry, and felt warmed by the sweet reassurance shining in the Gryffindor's jade eyes.

_His eyes really do betray everything…_ Draco thought, and felt himself smiling back at the man, who, until recently, had such a negative connotation in his life. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Harry smiled the brilliant smile that dazzled Draco's mind. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do." And the two men chuckled and reverted into their own thoughts, still holding each other's hands.

After a few moments of comfortable companionship, Harry shifted and turned to Draco. "Draco, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Well…I was wondering…why is it you've told me all these…personal things about what's happened to you? I mean…a week ago, when we were at the cove… You've always seemed like such a guarded person. Why'd you tell me all of that? We hadn't even agreed to become friends yet." Harry glanced down between them. "And this," he held up their intertwined hands, "I haven't thought much about it 'til now, I mean, I _noticed _it, surely. But you were the first to hold my hand two weeks ago…do you really feel that comfortable with me?" It almost seemed like Harry was going to go on, but Draco held up his free hand in halting gesture.

"Whoa, Harry. That's quite a lot of stuff to address. Let me start at the top before you overwhelm me." Harry blushed and looked down, adopting a sheepish expression. Draco smiled at this and said; "You asked why I told you all those things about what happened in Sanctuary?" Harry nodded. "Well, Harry…to be honest, I'm not sure why I told you those things. It just felt like…the right thing to do, I guess. You asked me a question, and I answered it, albeit with more length than I probably needed. You're right, I normally am a very guarded person, but that night…" Draco trailed off and shrugged. "That night I just felt like talking about it. I haven't talked about it in a while. Or really, at all."

Harry took this pause to interrupt with a related question. "But you said…you said you needed me to…keep interacting with you the way I always had. So that you could…keep your sanity. No offence or anything, Draco, but it seems to me that you were admitting a weakness."

Draco smiled wryly. "You're right. I _was_ admitting a weakness, wasn't I?" But Draco shrugged. "To be honest, I hadn't even really thought about you that way until that night. It was like I was figuring it out as I was talking to you, does that make sense?"

The Gryffindor nodded. "Yeah, I think so." There was a small pause, then Harry asked, "So I'm your weakness?"

Draco contemplated for a moment before replying, "Yes. I suppose you are."

Harry didn't have anything to say to that, but Draco filled the silence with, "So…what was the next question?"

Harry thought for a moment and then responded, "Erm…something to do with this," he raised their hands again slightly. "Why you did it."

"Oh," Draco said, averting his eyes. _I can't very well tell him the first time was because of the bet…and the second time was all him, so…_ Draco looked down to their hands, the pale and the bronze of the skin contrasting nicely against each other as their fingers wove in and out. It felt—and looked—natural. Even the contrast between Harry's more masculine-looking fingers, and Draco's rather feminine ones looked natural next to each other. "I…I don't know, Harry." Draco looked up into the deep green eyes. "I honestly don't know." He looked back down to their hands. "But I…I don't mind. It doesn't seem weird to me, I'm not sure why. Although it bugged me when I heard you and Raven had held hands…isn't this something only lovers do?" he asked Harry tentatively, glancing back up at him.

Harry's eyes widened slightly and he flushed, quickly escaping Draco's silvery gaze. "I…er…y-yes…I suppose so. Hermione said that 'just friends' don't hold hands like this. It does seem rather intimate," he replied nervously. "I've never really held anyone else's hand before…you know, other than Raven's…"

"I haven't really either."

Harry's head shot up. "What? Not even with Raven?"

Draco shook his head and shrugged. "We don't really need to walk around holding hands to show affection. Sometimes we hold hands when we're alone…but never in public."

"I find it hard to believe that Draco Malfoy hasn't ever held hands before. Haven't you had other girlfriends?"

"No, not really. A few…lovers, maybe, but I'm not someone who shows a lot of outward emotion, Harry. You should know that. That stuff's meant to stay rather private, I've always felt."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've always hated having other people know all about my personal business. It's one thing when it's Ron and Hermione, they're my best friends, but everyone else always wants to know what's going on with the sodding 'Boy-Who-Lived', and it's fucking annoying."

Draco laughed. "Yeah, I remember all those articles by Rita Skeeter…talking about you and Granger…those where hilarious!"

Harry frowned, but good-naturedly. "We never dated, you know. She's always been head-over-heels for Ron."

"But still…" And Draco trailed off into a yawn. "Maybe I should go soon."

"Yeah…I should change for bed," Harry said, untangling his fingers from Draco's and moving off the bed to stand.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, that's fine," Harry said as he stretched and walked over to his dresser, where he pulled out a pair of sweats.

Draco stared unabashedly as Harry pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor, before unfastening his jeans and slipping them off, stepping out of them and leaving them in a heap. Then he slipped on his pyjamas, a pair of red flannel pants with little gold-coloured Snitches stitched into the fabric. Draco was half expecting them to move, but they didn't, to which he was strangely relieved. He didn't think he needed the extra distraction of Golden Snitches zooming around Harry's pyjamas to keep his gaze on the Golden Boy of Hogwarts. He could stare well enough on his own.

_Oh Merlin,_ Draco's mental voice sighed. _He…he's..._ Gorgeous? Beautiful? An amazing blend of sexual masculinity that had Draco wondering in an unprecedented moment of self-consciousness if _he_ had that appeal? Hell, Draco wasn't sure, but whatever it was, Draco knew he should leave, and soon. Before he fucked everything over with his slightly neglected and never satisfied sex drive. Draco mentally snapped himself out of it, averting his eyes for a second. _I'm attracted to Potter, but that's all! He's barely even my friend, dammit! I…I…_ But Draco's train of thought promptly de-railed when Harry eased back down on the bed next to him, laying down on his left side and facing Draco.

Harry, completely oblivious to the affect he was having on his newfound friend, was a little surprised when Draco suddenly turned to get off the bed, bending down to put his shoes on. Alarmed, Harry sat up slightly. "Draco? Are you leaving?"

Draco paused, but didn't turn around. "Yes."

"Oh." After a moment of semi-tense silence, Harry asked, "Did I…did I do something wrong?"

Draco paused again. "No. I'm just… It's late, and I should probably get back."

"Oh. Okay." Harry nodded. _Well, it's no surprise, Potter. You just changed into your pyjamas yourself; he probably thinks you want him to go home…_ "You don't have to go, if you don't want to. I was just…trying to get more comfortable." _Oh, _that_ sounds good, Harry._ "I just didn't want to fall asleep in my clothes is all," he quickly added. _Did that sound any better? Somehow I don't think so…_

When Draco finally swallowed the lump in his throat enough to speak, he said suggestively, "Jeeze, Potter. Are you this messy about _everything_?" Draco turned around and smirked at Harry's confused expression. When Harry still looked confused, Draco gestured to the mess Harry had left on the floor.

Harry snorted. "_Everything_, Malfoy? What exactly are you suggesting?" he asked as he moved to slide off the bed past Draco, but Draco stopped him with a hand on his arm.

Kicking off the one shoe he managed to get on, Draco raised an eyebrow and pointedly glanced down at Harry's crotch.

Harry caught Draco's look and blushed madly. Clearing his throat, he said, "Oh. Um…well…"

"So, what is it, Harry? Messy? Contained?" He leaned forward and whispered in Harry's ear, "Are you quiet, or do you scream?"

Harry shivered pleasantly as the hot breath hit his ear and neck, choking on the intake of breath he had taken in when Draco leaned to whisper in his ear. He looked over at Draco, who had a mischievous grin on his face, and quickly realised that he was being teased. Narrowing his eyes and adopting a smirk himself, Harry launched himself at Draco, tackling him to the ground.

Draco, caught completely by surprise, let out a loud squawk, and an 'oof!' when he landed on the hardwood floor. Harry and Draco immediately started wrestling on the floor, gripping at each other and punching and twisting anything that came into reach. They were both enjoying the rough-housing tremendously, which was saying something, seeing as Harry had only had this kind of contact with people when he was being bullied, or fighting in the war; and Draco hadn't ever really done this, save for maybe that time in fifth year…

Harry, at one point, had Draco pinned beneath him, a solid grip on one arm and his other forearm across Draco's chest. "So, what do _you_ think, Malfoy?" he challenged.

Draco mockingly glared up at the Gryffindor. "I think you're a screamer, Potter." And kicked Harry off of him.

But Harry managed to keep a hold of Draco's arm, and proceeded to twist it behind the Slytherin's back. "I'll show you 'screamer,' Malfoy," Harry taunted.

Draco ground down on his teeth, determined _not_ to scream. But he let out a little squeak anyway, and Harry laughed harder. "Fuck you, Potter," Draco bit out, swinging around and punching Harry in the stomach.

Harry fell to the ground and Draco continued to punch and pinch his ex-rival. Harry struggled beneath him, and managed to roll them over a few times, until they ran unto the side of the dresser. They both grunted in pain, but kept at it, letting out frustrations as well as having fun; being rough, but never really hurting each other.

"You fight like a girl!" Harry jibed.

"I'm _refined_, Potter! Unlike _you_, so of course I don't know how to fight the muggle way…"

And when Harry had managed to get Draco in a headlock, Draco choked out, "T-time-out!"

"I have you in a headlock! You're not allowed to call a time-out!"

"You have the advantage of not having any clothes on, Potter. I am currently wearing a heavy jumper and slacks. Let me take some of it off for Merlinsakes!"

Harry reluctantly relented, still keeping his guard up, and watched as Draco pulled off his black jumper and socks and threw them in the corner. Once Draco was only in his slacks, Harry launched himself at the pale man again, where they wrestled for another fifteen minutes before giving up, collapsing next to each other on the bed, both sweaty and chests heaving, legs dangling off the side.

"Man, we should have done that ages ago," Harry panted.

"Yeah, but if we had, we would have come out a lot worse than just a few bruises, Harry."

Both men looked over at each other, smiling stupidly delirious smiles and started laughing.

"Gods, I don't think I'll ever be able to move again. I already feel sore from Quidditch, and now I'm exhausted," Draco said, struggling to pull himself up.

"Well…" Harry said, "You could just sleep over if you want. I don't mind. It's well past midnight anyway and…" he yawned, "we're both tired."

Draco, who was currently leaning on his elbows, looked down at Harry in question. "You sure?" He asked, immediately thinking of how he could use the situation to his advantage, although he wasn't sure if he would.

Harry nodded, yawning again. "Yeah, it's fine." He moved up on the bed, manoeuvring himself to the top, pulling back the covers and slipping under them. "Get in." Then he whispered the incantation to extinguish the candles in the room.

Draco stood, removed his slacks, and pulled back on the covers on his side, slipping into the cool fabric. "I didn't mention this before, Harry, but _Gryffindor_ red?" Draco gestured to the comforter and shook his head. "Merlin, you really are a lion."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. I'd almost say the same thing about you…except I don't think black is a Slytherin colour." Harry took off his glasses, setting them on the bedside table before turning to face him.

"It should be." Draco responded, snuggling down next to Harry and facing him. "Black, silver and dark green. You can't go wrong. But red and _gold_?" Draco tutted. "So tacky."

"You're such a ponce," Harry said affectionately.

"And you're such a plebeian," Draco retorted in kind.

They smiled at each other, and Harry's eyes fluttered shut. "Goodnight, Malfoy. I mean Draco," he said sleepily.

"Goodnight Potter."

"Harry."

"Right."

Draco laid there for a while, watching Harry's breath slow as sleep finally claimed the some-what naïve young man. _He really is good-looking,_ Draco thought, not quite able to call Harry beautiful, even in his head. Although he was, in his own way.

Tentatively, Draco raised a hand, ghosting his fingers over Harry's shoulder, not quite letting himself touch the tanned flesh. He followed the path down Harry's arm and back up, and then Harry rolled over onto his back, catching Draco off guard, freezing him in panic.

But it didn't seem as though Harry woke, so Draco allowed himself one more light touch; across the man's sparsely haired chest, lingering in the soft curls before resting lightly over Harry's heart. _Oh Merlin…_

Draco wasn't quite sure _what _he was feeling, but it wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, unlike the realisation that he didn't know what it was. It felt like a constantly changing thing, and the blond didn't know what to make of it.

Just as Draco was letting his eyes drift shut, he felt Harry's hand touch his, almost trying to scratch or rub at the spot Draco's hand had been touching. Draco froze again; ready to take his hand away, when, in his sleep, Harry's fingers loosely snaked over and between his, holding Draco's hand in a loose embrace. Draco smiled at this; his and Harry's fingers intertwined, resting on the Gryffindor's chest; and finally he let his eyes flutter shut and his mind rest.

* * *

_A/N: Ok, wow. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed here. This chapter and the next few are pretty heavy and full of all kinds of emotional stuff and realisations, but also some fun too. I really hope you all liked this chapter, because, damn, was it a pain get perfect. (Many many debates between Jesse and I on this one. And he _hates_ fanfiction! But he loves me, so hey...it's all good. :D )_

_I can't wait to get your reviews on this chapter!_

**Review Responses: _God, these things are getting long... (I think I need to learn not to respond to everything someone says...)_**

**dieSturm:** To be honest, I didn't really notice any bad grammar (or bad talking-English) in your review…I thought it was perfect! Well, minus a few typos, but I've been known to make typos too, so...

I'm glad you like my story (I like it too!), and that you like Raven. Like I tell all my new reviewers, she's been a bit of a controversy since this whole thing started (just look at the reviews). People either hate her or they love her. (To be honest, although she's based off a rather devious and Slytherin side of me I've never had the chance to explore, I think I'm somewhere in the middle as far as to how much I like her.) She's lots of fun to write though! I don't have to worry about her being in character, at any rate. :D

I hope you keep reading; I look forward to hearing from you again!

**Jordan:** Okay, you. No calling yourself stupid. And I left you a note in my recently added one-shot, (although I've just removed it, to fix it up-I wasn't in the best state of mind when I uploaded it…) So, to re-iterate what I said, you should add me (and anyone else) to your author alert if you want to know when I update. It'll send you and e-mail directly into your inbox 

Moving on…Again, I'm glad you liked the interaction…you always seem to. :D Sometimes, I wonder if you'll like the scene I'm writing. And to be honest, about Raven's lack of interaction…I noticed it as I was writing it, but couldn't really think of a good way to incorporate her more without disrupting the flow of conversation. I think of it more as a conscious choice on _her_ part. She wanted to watch the two men interact. She is quite the observer after all.

I'm glad you like Draco questioning his sexual orientation. Again, I was thinking of you. ;P And as to how many chapters…I originally thought twenty, but I think it might be closer to thirty or forty. –_shrug_- We'll see when we get there, I guess. –_suspiciously_- Why do you want to know?

By the way, I'll never be sorry for making you horny. In fact, I think I'd like to see that in person someday… :P So I won't tell you if you're right about the ending, but I will say that yes, for the most part, Harry felt comfortable enough to go up to Draco and Raven and ask to sit with them. After all, he spent quite a bit of time naked in front of them. But he was still nervous. I didn't really mention it, but Harry wasn't sure if they wouldn't want him approaching them, but wound up shrugging it off anyway. But anyway—what are you on about with the hair? What exactly did I do? (You mention I did something using hair…are you referring to the progression of the interaction between the two resident hotties?) 

And I can understand feeling like you're in the situation with the characters. To me, that's the trait of a really good writer. (Am I getting conceited?) Anyway, I know I'm reading a good story (any kind, canon or fanfiction) when I can connect with the characters, and never put the book down. I want to find out what's going on as much as they do!

Don't worry about the lack of reviewing…I thought I would have to wait on you :P but I actually wound up waiting on my betas for this chapter! 

Anyways, I love you, babes. Hope to hear from you soon.   
XOXOX   
Rae

**Sh'arra Rie:** Thank you for reviewing, and thank you very much for the compliment. I'm glad someone is enjoying the sexual tension (some people are getting a bit antsy…). And I'll update as soon as I can.

**fifespice: **I'm glad you like my fic. And to answer your question, yes, your assumption is correct. I can't guarantee that there won't be some threesome action, but things will work out in the end. Thank you for reviewing!

**novalights: **I'm sorry you had to read the story over two times! (Is it really that hard to pick up? I'm asking, because you're the first person to say that they've had to read it twice to understand it.) And you're ideas are generally correct. Raven is a rather complicated character, and unfortunately, we probably won't see just what's been going on in her mind (nor her logic) until the end of the story. But yes, she does want to add some love into Harry's life. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

**Terin:** -_blushes_- Thank you SO SO much for your compliments on my writing skills! I'm very flattered that you think so highly of my writing and of my story. I'm sorry I took so long to update, but it's been written for quite a while, it was just pending in beta-land for a while. :D And…I can't quite say exactly how long it will be for the Draco/Harry action, but the next few chapters will be holding a lot of interesting developments. Thank you again, and I hope to hear from you again!

**Zacharias Aingeal:** First of all, let me thank you profusely for reading my story and reviewing it in such a manner. When I read it, it seemed more like a movie review or something! (And I got a 10/10!) But that's cool—I really like how you have the LJ set up. And a note about getting more visits to your LJ—my suggestion would be to make that LJ your homepage for your user page…I almost always look at a homepage if someone has one.

Secondly, about my summary…do you have any suggestions? I know that my summary is pretty bland…to be honest, this story was supposed to be rather short, with lots of gratuitous sex and the mood was supposed to be more light-hearted. (What the fuck happened, I wonder?) Anyways, it's not short (or it won't be), the mood isn't all that light-hearted as I had intended, BUT there will still be lots of gratuitous sex. In the NC-17 version I'll eventually have on my yahoo site. :D So, if you're a hormonal boy who wants fast things, I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait. ;P (Besides…doesn't the build up make the release that much better?) Please excuse the underlying sexual innuendo there…I'm a hormonal twenty-one year old woman who wants fast things too. ;D 

I do have a question about something you mentioned…about accepting Draco's past. Do you mean that it's hard to accept, or…because of the reasons behind it, it doesn't seem odd? I don't know, maybe I'm confusing myself here… Although I got the impression that you liked it anyway, I'm wondering if perhaps Draco's past (in my story) isn't really all that believable. I do believe that Draco probably wouldn't back out so soon…but there are good and believable reasons on both sides…I honestly think it would be a combination of the two (which is what I think I was trying to pull off, but perhaps I didn't a do a good job of it). And then again…he might never be a Death Eater to begin with (which is what I'm hoping JKR is implying with her "Draco's Detour" chapter in the upcoming sixth book).

Anyway, I'm glad you like my writing, and the progression of the story as well. I'll try to keep it up to your expectations, and please let me know if you have any suggestions or comments. I love getting e-mails from my reviewers. (I can't tell you how many pen-pals I now have, just because I wrote a story.) :D Thank you VERY much, Zacharias for your wonderful review, and don't be afraid to write something long for a review. Twodollartrick writes pretty long reviews, and they seem to fit just fine. –_shrug­-_

I look forward to hearing from you!  
Love and Huggles,  
Rae

**Windy**** River**Thank you for reviewing, I'm glad you like it, and I'll try to update quicker. Sorry for the long wait!

**Morniea Inglorion: **You're right, in the grand scheme of things, grades don't matter. But then again, it's a dog-eat-dog word out there, and that means keeping the grades up. Damn having ambitions that involve expensive art school!

Anyways, I'm happy that you like my story and think that the characters are consistent with the canon. (It's what I've been shooting for.) I think it is probable that Ron and Hermione would move on a bit easier, although I do not believe that they didn't have things to cope with as well. I haven't quite divulged in the whole back story for all of the characters, and I'm not sure if I will get to it…perhaps it'll get put in the "extras" stuff at my yahoo site. 

And I'm also happy that you think Raven works well. She's been the subject of much controversy… (And I don't want to think about all the people who _don't_ review to bitch about her…-_shudders-_) I'm sure they probably read the first few chapters, and then leave 'cause it's not going how they want it to, but I'm glad there are some people who still stick with me regardless, like MachiavellianOrange. So-thank you so much for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

P.S. I hope you're not picking up anymore of Jordan's (twodollartrick) bad habits! ;)

**SirenLore:** Wow! Such enthusiasm! –lol- I like it. :D So here's your new chapter, and I'll try to hurry with the next one. And I'm sure that Harry was almost sorted into Slytherin will come up at some point…

**Lorenna:** Thank you for reviewing again! And wow…you read chapter ten _twice_? –_blushes-_ You must really have liked it, then. :D And Draco will indeed be seeing the 'light' at some point in the near future…hopefully. ;) I hope to hear from you again!

**Tiger Eye2:** Thank you for offering to beta. I really appreciate it. Unfortunately, I do already have a beta (and few more who I turn to occasionally), but if I ever feel like I want any more, you'll be the first to know! Thank you for reading my story, and I hope to hear from you again.

**Michelle/Machiavellian: **To be quite honest, I believe I've scared you away. If not, I hope you are ok. I'm feeling rather lost right now, and I'd love to talk to you. I'm not really sure why. I hope you got my message about me not getting the e-mail you referred to in that quick review. Hotmail's been acting quite wonky, so if you've sent anything else, I haven't gotten it. I'm not ignoring you, if you have. Love you. 


	12. A Brewing Storm

_**UPDATE 04.11.05! I'm just re-submitting this chapter with some more corrections by MachiavellianOrange. Nothing too dastardly, but you could read it again if you want. Thank you so much MO! **_

_**Chapter Notes: **Okay, first of all, I want to thank you all for waiting so patiently (or not so patiently) for this chapter. I've actually been writing like mad the past two weeks, but problems with beta-ing these last few months have gotten in the way of me uploading any chapters within a timely manner. Which brings me into my next subject!_

_I have recently lost my beta, and my temp-beta is having problems with his computer, so for this chapter, the lovely and wonderful _**twodollartrick**_ beta'd for me! I really can't thank you enough, Jords, and I dedicate this chapter to you._

_Now, on with Chapter Twelve!

* * *

_

**The Bet **

**Chapter XII – A Brewing Storm**

* * *

Although he was still apprehensive about the whole situation, once Hermione made both him and Neville promise not to interfere with Harry's current affairs, he stuck to that, trusting his best friend to make the right decisions. Regardless that he felt that any decision involving Draco Malfoy was a bad decision. Unless, of course, that decision was to beat the crap out of the blond haired git. 

It wasn't that Ron was still holding the petty squabbles of their Hogwarts-days; he was just having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea. Once you have a rather ingrained impression of someone, it was hard to adjust to a change in that impression. And when dealing with Draco Malfoy, his first reaction was to think that it was probably a farce; something the Slytherin was doing to win over Harry and use him how he deemed fit. He was still a Slytherin after all, and Ron wouldn't put it past the arsehole to do something like that.

However, Ron wasn't stupid either. He knew that there was no logical reason behind a scheme like that—the war was over, they weren't in Hogwarts anymore—it just wouldn't make sense. Especially so out of the blue. _Or maybe _because_ it was out of the blue,_ a voice piped up in the back of his mind. And for a minute, Ron thought that perhaps Malfoy was trying to win Harry's trust to take over Seeker position on the school team. And it seemed that he was right; when Malfoy had actually turned up for practice one afternoon, Harry insisted it was because the man needed the practice. Now Ron had just currently been promoted to varsity Keeper when the previous Keeper, Rodney Owens, graduated last spring, but he knew that Malfoy had hardly ever attended practices, and if he did, it was only with the back-up players, never with the varsity. It was amazing that he was never kicked off the team, even if he was only back-up.

So what was the Slytherin up to? Harry seemed to have made the decision, and although Malfoy was still acting like a right git, he was aware enough to see that blond was actually appreciative of Harry's suggestion to get back in the game. So Ron resigned himself to take it at face value (for the moment), but keep an eye out for any wayward activity.

Which was where he was at at the moment. He and Hermione (along with quite a few others) were attending their Tuesday morning Herbology class, but there were two people that weren't there that should have been.

Harry and Malfoy.

He told himself that perhaps Harry was running late; he had vaguely heard him leave yesterday evening, and never really heard him come back home—perhaps he just needed to sleep in. But Malfoy…he was never late. Never absent. Never sick. Never anything but an upstanding student, which irked Ron to no degree. But after half an hour with"Mr. Perfect" never showing up, the little niggling of panic in his stomach dropped to his navel, and he was now trying to convince himself that there was no foul play.

While the class went to work on the practical side of their lesson, Ron nudged his fiancée's elbow.

"'Mione, love?"

"Hmm?"

"Does it seem…odd," he started, trying to think of the best way to go about this, "that both Harry and Malfoy aren't in class this morning?" He added a hopeful note to his voice at the end, hoping Hermione wouldn't see past it to his distress. She'd only write it off as silly, after all.

"Oh don't be silly, Ron," she said. _Well, so much for that idea…_Ron thought. "I'm sure nothing's wrong. Harry probably just needs a lie-in, and what Malfoy does is his own business."

"Did you say Malfoy?" Seamus asked from across the table.

The two heads popped up and added the Irishman into the conversation. "Yeah," Ron said. "I was wondering where he and Harry were this morning. You know that they've been getting a little chummy lately, right?" Seamus nodded. "And it's not like Malfoy to miss class. Ever."

"It sounds like you care if Malfoy comes to class, Ron," Hermione said, smirking at him.

"Yes, that's right. I care about Malfoy." Ron shook his head. "What a load of rubbish. I only care about Malfoy if it involves Harry. And even then it's not in a friendly manner."

A frown flitted across Seamus' face. "Well…Harry brought Malfoy home late last night…" he started.

"What?" Ron said darkly. Malfoy was in _their_ dorm? What was Harry _thinking_?

Seamus' frown deepened. "Yeah, Harry came in late last night with Malfoy, and they went upstairs to Harry's room and hung out I guess," Seamus shrugged. "That's what they said they were going to do, anyway."

Ron felt himself pale, and chanced a glance at Hermione, who had a raised eyebrow, but an otherwise blank look on her face. "Wh-what do you mean, you guess?"

Seamus shrugged again. "Gin and I didn't hear anything after that. I think they put a silencing charm on the room or something."

"When did he leave? Did Malfoy leave?" Ron was _definitely_ panicking now, and he was speaking with an urgency that was ready to explode. He felt Hermione shift a bit closer to him, but the gesture held no comfort.

"I'd assume so," Seamus answered. "But shortly after they came in, I walked Ginny home, then went to bed meself, so I didn't hear him leave or anything."

A very distant part of Ron registered that Seamus was indeed treating his little sister well, and smiled. That threat he issued a few months ago was working wonders. But the not so distant part was frozen in panic and anger. What if Malfoy did something to Harry? Revenge for years of animosity? Ron knew he probably wasn't thinking his most rational at the moment, but he wasn't sure he cared. Ron looked down at his fiancée, giving her a look that pleaded, 'Harry can take care of himself, right? I'm panicking over nothing, right?'

Hermione caught his gaze and held it, first in annoyance of Ron's inanity, but then in adoration at the worried look in his blue eyes. She shifted a bit closer and reached up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek in reassurance. "I'm sure he's fine," she murmured. "He is Harry, after all. But check after class if you like," she added.

Ron relaxed slightly, but the tightness in his stomach wouldn't abate. He spent the rest of class working mechanically, his thoughts elsewhere. As soon as the class was let out, he left his classmates behind and sprinted across the large courtyard to his dormitory, the thoughts racing through his mind bringing scenarios that got more ugly and terrifying by the second. _But Harry could defend himself, right? Right? I mean, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the final vanquisher of the darkest lord of their time, surely an ex-Death Eater and Malfoy heir would be nothing…**unless you had your guard down around one such person…**_

But even the worst of his thoughts couldn't compare to what he saw once he bounded up the stairs of Number One and opened the door to Harry's room.

There were a few pairs of clothes strewn about on the floor—jeans and shirts and slacks and jumpers—and two very different pairs of shoes next to the bed on the floor, on which lay…

Ron's horrified screaming could be heard all they way into the village.

* * *

As mentioned before, Draco Malfoy was not much of a morning person. But he could still get up very early, and if it was a particularly nasty morning, he would swig a bit of Pepper Up potion and go on with the rest of the day; perfecting his hair and clothes meticulously, as befitted someone who not only was a Malfoy, but one who was well on their way to master the fine art of potions making. 

But then there were some mornings, when one just really did not want to get up. Lethargy, warmth and comfort claimed all precedence, and cared not what the outside world thought. This was one such morning for Draco Malfoy, and since they did not come often, he was more than content to stay in bed for the rest of his life if need be. He was warm, he was comfortable, and the musky smell of the bed he was in was bordering in either lulling him back to sleep, or egging on his proverbial morning erection.

But there was something wrong. Not only was there a rather heavy weight across his chest, but there was this terrible racket coming from what direction he vaguely recognised was the doorway.

Eyes shooting open, Draco sat up, blinking his eyes against the harsh light streaming in from the windows. The arm that was on his chest fell into his lap, and he looked over and down at the owner of that tanned arm.

Harry Potter was lying next to Draco on his stomach, his hair every which way, one arm tucked underneath him, and the other laying dangerously close to Draco's 'other' appendage. The man's face was half-buried in his maroon pillow, and he seemed to be in a deep slumber. Draco gulped for a second, his sleep addled mind quite pleased with the sight of Harry in the morning.

But _goddammit_, there was some stupid noise interrupting his Harry-watching. Draco finally whipped his head to the direction of the door, where Weasley stood, a horrified and pale look on his face, which was quickly turning red in rage.

Heh.

Now even though Draco was still on his way to waking up, he thought that perhaps he should play with the git's mind a little, as he was obviously going to be scarred for life, and since Harry didn't seem to be waking up…

Draco mentally smirked, but outwardly scowled. Grabbing the top of the covers, he pulled them up and started to lie down and snuggle closer to Harry. "Weasley, _if_ you don't mind, _some_ people are trying to sleep here. Cease your indignant squawking and bugger off."

Ron's mouth snapped shut, but opened quickly again in sputtering bursts. "Malfoy…you…Harry…what…what the _fuck_ are you doing in his bed! _Naked?_!" His voice was shrill and harsh, much higher than it had been in a long time. His shrieks finally seemed to register in Harry's sleeping mind, and the raven-haired boy shifted in his sleep, pulling his arm around Draco and burying his face in the pale man's shoulder, which only made Ron shriek in rage again.

But upon seeing his best mate snuggle up to _Malfoy_, Ron finally got over his shock and strode over to the bed and yanked back the covers, making Draco cry out in protest, and Harry shiver and finally blink his eyes open.

"Wha…?" Harry groaned blearily, leaning a little off of Draco and rubbing his right eye to rid it of the sleepies.

Draco's mental scowl matched the one on his face. _That had been nice for the two seconds it had lasted…_

Ron, however, was still in a fit of rage. And the fact that the men were indeed _not_ naked, but just topless, didn't make him feel any better. Or rather, it did, but the embarrassment of assuming such a thing quickly overrode any relief that Harry and Malfoy had _not_ spent the night…

_No._ He wasn't going to think about it. But they _could _have put their clothes back on afterwards, right? The evidence against them _was_ substantial. Silencing charms, clothes strewn about, and were those bruises on Malfoy's ribs? Ron shook his head. _No. _It was better to just not think about it. He'd just…ask Harry later. Yes. That would work.

So, taking a deep breath, the tall redhead glared down at Malfoy and spat, "I don't know what you think you're doing, _Malfoy,_ but you better leave now if you want to leave bodily intact."

But Malfoy glared and suddenly sat back up, which jerked Harry into awareness, although he was still trying to grasp the current situation.

"Is that a _threat_, Weasel?"

_Draco?_ Harry thought.

Ron leaned forward into Draco's face. "Only if you make it one, _Ferret._"

_Ron?_ Harry rolled onto his side and sat up next to Draco. _What's going on?_

But before Harry could voice his thoughts, Draco stood up on the bed so he could tower over Harry's taller best friend.

"It might come as a _surprise_ to you, Weasel, but Harry can have whoever he pleases spend the night in his bed. Even if that someone is of the _male_ persuasion."

Harry saw Ron's eyes widen, but his face remained flushed with anger.

"How _dare_ you call him 'Harry!'"

It was then that Harry's sleep addled brain seemed to latch on to the situation. He had seen the sight before him many, many times before in the past—Ron and Draco, in each other's faces and ready to come to blows.

However, this time, Harry's reaction was different. Instead of defending Ron and bringing Draco's focus to him, he jumped out of the bed and got between the two men, facing Ron.

"Ron, stop!"

Ron's face snapped down to look at the smaller man and his anger wavered. "You're not _defending_ him, are you, Harry? Please tell me that I've been hallucinating all morning and I did _not_ find you and Malfoy in bed together…"

Harry frowned. "No, Ron. You're not hallucinating. Draco was really tired, so I let him stay over."

"_Draco_? You're calling him _Draco_?" Ron shook his head."But _why _did you let him stay over? It's not like he lives in London! He could have walked two houses over! Or apparated! He _is_ a wizard, Harry."

"And _he_ is still in the room," Draco intoned darkly from behind Harry, still standing on the bed and glaring down at Ron.

"Shut up, Ferret." Ron spat, not looking away from Harry's eyes, which were darkening in anger.

"Ron, you know apparating when you're tired isn't a good idea. He could have been splinched," Harry said, still frowning at his best mate.

"Well, at least we could have been rid of him for awhile while they sorted him out at St. Mungo's!"

"You don't need to get splinched to go to Mungo's, Weasel. But I'm sure I could make you an appointment."

"_Shut up_, Ferret!" Ron finally tore his gaze away from his friend and glared up at the blond. "I don't ever want to see you in Harry's bed again! Or in this dorm!"

"Ron!"

"You can't order me around, you pretentious ass. I think being made prefect all those years ago got to your head. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Weasley, but we're not in Hogwarts anymore. Harry can have whoever he wants in his room, or in this dorm!"

"Draco, stop. You're not making things any better." Harry turned back to his best friend. "I don't know why you're so mad Ron. We just slept in the same bed. You're making it sound like he's going to stab me in my sleep."

_Yes,_ Draco thought, folding his arms and shifting his weight. _I _would_ like to stab you, but not in the way you _or _Weasley think._

Ron paled at Harry's comment. "I just don't trust him, Harry. He's done nothing to-"

"You're absolutely right, Ron. He's done _nothing._" Harry was finally losing his temper. "He's done nothing but prove to me that he's a changed person, and that he deserves our respect. We weren't the only ones that suffered the war, Ron. Draco's just as human as the rest of us." Harry paused to let that sink in. "Draco's right. You're acting just like you did when you were fifteen. We're twenty-three now. Grow up. Now, if you'll excuse us, I think we'd like to get dressed." Harry stepped forward, and Ron stepped back, a mixture of horrification and hurt on his freckled face.

"I…" Ron's eyes searched Harry's, hardening as they landed on Draco, and his mouth creased in a line. Then he looked back at Harry. He wanted to keep throwing a strop, and stay angry at Malfoy, and at the stupid situation, and Harry…and… No, not at Harry. He mentally shook his head. Harry was right. And consequentially, so was Malfoy. He _was_ acting immature. Looking straight into Harry's dark green eyes, he sighed. "You're right, Harry. I over reacted. I'm sorry."

Harry's face softened. "It's alright, Ron. I think I understand."

Ron just nodded, looking away. "Yeah, well." He glanced over at Draco. "Malfoy…" he frowned. "If you've really changed, fine. But if this is some sort of scheme…" he warned.

Draco smirked. "I can assure you it's not, Weasley." He shifted forward in a rather bold move and snaked his arms around Harry's shoulders, who jumped. Ron's frown only deepened. "Harry and I are just friends, isn't that right, Harry?" Draco breathed in the Gryffindor's ear, sending an interesting shiver down his spine.

"Er…yes. We're just friends," Harry managed, startled by the softness, warmth and weight of Draco's arms around his shoulders, and across his chest.

Ron grimaced and said, "Fine. You're friends. It's the end of the world. Got it." He shook his head. "You two have missed Herbology, and come to think of it, we're all late for our next classes." He sighed. "I'll see you later, Harry. Malfoy."

"Bye, Ron."

"Weasel."

As Ron closed the door behind him he heard Harry admonish Malfoy. "I really wish you'd stop calling him that, Draco. He's my best mate, and he has a name. It's Ron. Surely you can learn to use it." Ron smirked in the only self-satisfaction he had that morning. _Well, as long as the world is ending, I might as well let Hermione in on it._ And he left his dormitory to seek out his fiancée.

* * *

"…Well, if he wasn't such a _weasel,_ maybe I wouldn't call him that," Draco said indignantly, taking his arms from Harry's shoulders and crossing them over his chest. 

Harry rolled his eyes and turned around. "_Now_ who's being immature? He's no more a weasel than you are a ferret." When Draco's visage didn't change Harry said, "Okay look, I'll talk to him too, alright? Maybe you guys can agree on surnames? Is that better?"

Draco shrugged. "Yeah. I suppose so."

"Gods, are you an insufferable git."

Draco smirked. "But that's how you like me, Potter."

"Oh shut up, will you? I just fought with my best friend over you. Jeeze. Act a little humble for once in your life."

Draco frowned. He knew Harry was right, but his deep-rooted animosity with Weasley, which went far into family feuds, was battling with his desire to be and stay on the dark-haired Gryffindor's good side. He found that although he had not gotten over his enmity towards Harry's best friend, he _had_ gotten over his feelings towards Harry himself, and just couldn't bear to make things worse and destroy all the progress they had made these past weeks. Finally, his shoulders sagged and he dropped his arms to his sides. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to make things hard between you and Weasley. He just…pisses me off. It's like its ingrained or something."

Harry raised an eyebrow. _Was Draco actually apologising?_ "It's alright, Draco. I think it's the same for him. I know it normally is for me, too." Harry felt a flush come over his face, and turned away, bending down to pick up his discarded clothes from the night before.

"Normally?" Draco asked, hopping down from the bed.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I don't _normally_ defend you, do I?" Harry turned around and smiled at Draco.

The blond decided then that breathing was overrated. Seeing Harry, just woken up and bed-mussed, no glasses, no shirt, hair looking like he'd just spent all night having sex; all bright green eyes, tan skin and smiles…it made something twinge in Draco's chest, tingling all he way down to his groin. "No…" he breathed. "You don't."

Harry turned away from Draco then, moving to the other side of the room to the closet, where he opened one of the sliding wooden doors and threw his clothes inside. Breathing deeply, he let some tension expel with his breath, turning back around to find Draco sitting on the edge of the bed. Harry walked back over and sat down beside him.

"I don't know about you, but I'm still tired. What do you say we skip today, and laze about in bed?"

Draco started a bit, and looked over at Harry with blank look on his face. Harry had the feeling that he was looking at a wall. _Did I say something wrong?_

And as for Draco, he was glad that he still had the ability to mask his true feelings. The reason he sat down was among those affections. And Harry's current proposal wasn't helping. He wanted nothing more than to do just as Harry asked, but he knew he couldn't. It was too soon. _He doesn't even realise the effect he's having on you, so don't blow it all now, not when you're so close…_Draco knew that if he stayed, he would probably do something that would destroy everything—the bet, and their new friendship most of all. Besides, Harry didn't even know that Draco was even having the inclination to think of men like that, and so didn't realise that he was dangling a steak in front of a ravenous tiger. Draco didn't want to test his theories. And Harry was almost too close to him now…

"I'd really like to, Harry, but I shouldn't. N.E.W.T.'s and all."

Harry looked away and seemed slightly dejected. "Oh, yeah, I understand. That was pretty thoughtless of me to suggest-"

"No!" Draco went to place a hand on Harry's forearm, only to jerk back at the last second. Harry glanced down at Draco's hand with a puzzled frown, but decided to just let the strange gesture pass. "I mean…it wasn't thoughtless. Like I said, I'd love to, but neither of us should, really." Draco paused before speaking again. "Perhaps…I could take a rain check?"

Harry smiled. "For some strange reason, I think I'd like that."

"Well, you _did_ suggest it, Gryffindor."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, but it just seems like an odd thing for a rain check. Most twenty-three year old men don't make plans to spend all day in bed with each other."

Draco developed a smirk and leaned in slightly. "Oh, are you saying that you're not one of _those_ men, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "One of what men, Draco?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Subtlety was lost on Gryffindors. "Oh, come now, Potter. I'm sure you can figure out what I mean."

Harry sat for a moment, thinking about what Draco had said. Then it hit him. _Oh._ One of _those_ men. "I…er…" Harry cleared his throat. "No. I, er…I don't think I can say I'm one of those men, Draco." Harry thought he heard Draco mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'pity,' but then the Slytherin stood and stretched languidly, bending down to retrieve his own clothing. Harry blinked in confusion, watching the pale man move around the room, dumbly noticing the shallow bruises he'd caused on Draco's ribs and arm.

"I think I'll just change in the bathroom and be on my way. See ya later, Harry."

"Er, yeah. Later, Draco." After the blond left, the Gryffindor sat there for a moment, thinking back on their conversation. Then something occurred to him. _Was _Draco_ one of those types of men? He seemed to be insinuating things like that, or stuff about…_Harry swallowed, _sex,_ but Harry quickly shook that thought away. _That's just silly. Draco's in love with Raven. And I………I'm not sure how I feel about anything anymore._ Harry shook his head. _Ron's probably onto something. I'm losing my marbles. I just spent the night with Draco Malfoy, _Harry laughed to himself. _There's something for the record books._

Getting up himself, he grabbed his shower stuff and a towel, leaving his room for the bathroom that Draco was just vacating.

The blond still looked like he had just gotten out of bed, but was dressed at least, somehow managing to pull it all off as if he'd meant it.

"See ya, Draco."

Draco paused next to Harry and knocked the man's chin up with his knuckle. "Remember to shave, Potter. Your baby-face is much more striking." And with a wink, Draco turned away and went down the stairs, leaving a bewildered Harry on the landing.

"I'll never understand Slytherins," Harry muttered, before going into the bathroom.

* * *

Hermione was not normally a woman who would cut class. Nor was she easily startled, scared, shocked or angered. She had done and seen too much in her short life for much to faze her anymore. Yet, there she was, currently gazing blindly at her fiancé, or more like just above his left eye, where a barely visible scar marred the skin on his forehead. She remembered very well when she had come back from being ambushed all those years ago with blood pouring out of the wound. The contrast from the dark blood to his copper hair was grotesque, and at that moment, it was the only vision she could focus on. Of course, that was hardly close to the topic of discussion. 

Not that you could really call it a discussion. It was more like Ron was talking _at_ her, not realising in his confusion and anger that her mouth had dropped open in the unfamiliar shock a long time ago, and that she was gazing some-what stupidly at some point above his left eye.

"…And then Harry got angry at me. Or, at least, it seemed like he was. But he was defending _Malfoy_! I mean…" Ron sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his flame coloured hair. "I said I was sorry, that I had acted immature, and that's true, but…I mean, how would _you_ feel if you found your best mate in bed with our 'former' enemy?" Ron's gaze bore hole into the wooden bedpost of Hermione's four-poster. "And that bloody blond git. He hasn't changed at all, no matter what Harry says. He's still an obnoxious brat," Ron spat, and finally looked up at Hermione. "'Mione? Are you okay?"

Hermione shook out of her stupor. "Oh…yeah. Yes, I'm fine. I… Well Ron, I agree that you probably did over-react a little bit, but for anybody your reaction would have been relatively normal." Ron smiled at her. "However," and Ron's face fell slightly. "You really shouldn't judge Malfoy so quickly. He's not trying to be _your_ friend Ron. He's trying to mend things with Harry, so it's only logical that Harry's seen a different side of him than you or I have."

"But…what if he's just pretending?"

Hermione frowned slightly in thought. "Well, we don't know for sure, of course, but he has no reason to act differently towards you. Or me. He has no reason or inclination to show you a different side of him, like he probably has to Harry. So, while there's still the possibility that he's pretending with Harry, I really think that he just doesn't want a lot of people thinking he's changed. But again," she sighed, "we don't really know. I haven't talked to him in ages. Or, ever, really."

Ron frowned, his mouth set in a straight line. "Well maybe we should. We know Raven's side; I'd like to hear Malfoy's."

"But Raven's already told us."

"What, that Malfoy 'agrees' with trying to help Harry? Help him get out of this funk?" Ron sighed. "It's not that I don't believe her. Well, no, maybe I don't, a little. It's just that…Harry's my best mate, 'Mione. Yours too. It hurts that Malfoy can seem to get through to him but we can't. That whatever the hell it is that Raven and Malfoy have managed to do to get Harry to open up to them, we couldn't do."

Hermione placed a warm hand on Ron's back and rubbed it in little circles. "I know, love. I know. I think…I think that it's us really. Not them."

Ron's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

"Well…we've always told Harry that he can come to us at any time. And for a while there, all we would do was try and force it out of him. Do you remember all those fights you two had?"

Ron nodded. "Yes. I hated that. I still hate it."

"So do I. But we decided to eventually back off, and just let Harry come to us. And I think that's what he wanted for a while. But, and this is just a hypothesis, I have a feeling that it changed at some point. He wanted, and most definitely _needed_ someone to come to him. He needed attention. We all had gotten so used to him taking more to himself, and then he eventually opened up a little, but only on the surface. We took that to mean that he was getting better, when really, he probably wasn't."

"You mean…like he wanted us to believe that he was fine, even though he never came and talked to us about it?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I think that Raven's right. Harry's become a very good liar. Probably so good that he's even lying to himself."

"Oh, god," Ron whispered, putting his head in his hands and tugging at his hair.

"Shh. It's all right, love."

Ron looked up with a pained look on his face. "How? How is it all right? In fact, this is worse. Harry's lying to us, he's lying to himself, and the only person who seems to get through to him is _Malfoy_!"

Hermione jerked back at Ron's raised tone, and tears sprung up in her eyes. "_I know_, Ronald. I know. I'm just…I want…_goddammit_, I just want Harry to be _happy_!" She suddenly stood and started pacing. Then she stopped and turned to give Ron an intense look. "And if you or I can't seem to be what Harry needs, but Raven or Malfoy are, well then, I'm not going to get in their way. Harry deserves all the happiness in the world and then some, as your sister told me yesterday, and I'll be dammed if I'm going to try and doubt where that happiness is coming from. It's unusual, I know, but I'm putting my faith in the last thing that seems to be offering itself to Harry's happiness. It's all we have left. It's all I have. It's all Harry has." She finished quietly, finally letting the tears that were pressing in on the rims of her eyes overflow, and she flung herself into Ron's arms, crying loudly into his chest.

Ron held her tightly, silent tears leaking out of his eyes as well as he comforted his fiancée. "You're right, Love. You're right. We've tried. We all have. But I just…I'm so worried that this is all a ploy. And Harry will only wind up more hurt in the end."

Hermione sniffled. "I know. I'm worried too. But I just don't think that Malfoy would be doing all he's been doing if he didn't at least care about Harry in some way." She pulled back slightly and rubbed the tears from her reddened cheeks. "But we're still here, Ron. Harry knows that. I'm sure of it. He just needed something to shake him up a bit," she smiled wryly through her tears.

Ron smiled gently back and kissed her softly on the lips. "Oh, gods, I hope you're right Hermione. We nearly lost him once, I don't think I could bear to see him like that again."

Hermione moved back into his embrace and hugged him fiercely. "Neither can I, Ron. Neither can I."

* * *

_30 September 2003_

_I normally don't write in this outside of my room, but I took it with me today anyway, and this afternoon is the first time I've had a chance to open it. Let's just say that my professors are not very happy with my sleeping in._

_Hmm. I'm in two minds about that right now._

_One; I just spent the night in Potter's room. Nothing happened, although I must say that I haven't slept that peacefully in ages. I haven't asked, but I don't think he had nightmares either. I'm sure I would have noticed. I've also realised a few things—but I'll get to that later._

_Two; because of the Weasel's reaction to finding us in bed together (which was annoying yet amusing at the same time) Harry actually defended me against him! Ha! Take that, Potter's best friend! Guess who Harry likes more now?_

_Okay, okay, I'm deluding myself. I know Harry isn't really thinking about me that way._

_But am I thinking that way about him?_

_Yes and no._

_I'm definitely attracted to him; my unnoticed reactions to him last night have confirmed any doubt I held in the recesses of my mind. I'm not quite sure why or when I started to think about guys this way—no, just Harry—but I think it's an aesthetic thing. Like I said earlier, I know beauty when I see it. But…perhaps there's more to it than that. Which is the other part of the issue._

_I don't know why I wasted all those years hating him. Of course I know that I was really just being a right prat—controlled by my father's ideals and prejudices. But regardless, I'm finding myself liking Harry more and more on an intellectual level. Not that we're always on the same wavelength, nor is he so much like me in ideas or brains. But we share something…school, Quidditch, war…and he really is a **good **guy. There's something about him; something I've only noticed now that I've let myself; something that makes you **want** to be his friend. And like him, and help him, and…just **notice**__him. For all that he's been through and for all the prejudices he must have or must have had against me, he still can have this easy-going attitude towards me that is as intellectually and emotionally appealing as it is sexually appealing. Like I'm really his friend._

_So I am thinking about him sexually, and I like him as a friend. (Is that even possible? It sounds like an oxymoron…)_

_But I think that's pretty awesome._

_I'm friends with Harry Potter._

_Finally._

_We've done the impossible._

_And again, I slept in his bed last night! Yes, I think that was definitely something…special. Different than what had happened between us before. I wonder if he noticed anything different. I think I might have to convince Raven to sleep over more often if waking up next to someone feels that good. Harry doesn't know it, of course, but he had his arm across my chest when I woke up and he snuggled against me later when I was putting on a show for Weasley. He must feel comfortable enough around me to know he was sleeping next to me; to offer it in the first place._

_That…really means something, I think, coming from Potter. I have a feeling that he doesn't give his trust and comfort as easily as he might have done years ago._

_Raven will probably be ecstatic to hear all about last night. The heart-to-heart (which although it was nice and genuine, still makes me feel queasy because I just don't **do** that), the handholding, the wrestling... I have a feeling that the wrestling will be Raven's favourite part—I've noticed she seems to have a fetish for sweaty guys—she's suddenly become keen to jumping on me after Quidditch practice in the few weeks we've been together, claiming it's because I'm sexier after I've been working out. But hey, if I get to make out with her because of it, I'll work out every day._

_Hmmm…I love making out with Raven. She has the sweetest lips. Touching her is like running my hands through silk, and tasting her skin is like lapping up sweet honey for hours on end._

_And she has the nicest ass._

_Sorry, but I had to write it down someday. It's funny how that one sentence can bring my entire writing ability level down a few notches. You'd think I could be more eloquent than that._

_But even though Raven's great—and I love her more and more, I feel like my libido can't take much more teasing. We know each other so well intellectually—although she still manages to surprise me—that almost all we need to explore anymore is our physical selves. But she'll only let it go so far. Her excuse has something to do with the victory of Potter being that much more sweet if we wait. Between Harry and I, and Raven and I._

_Huh._

_Bullocks, I tell you. I just can't shake the feeling that she's hiding something and just making excuses._

_But then I remind myself that there **is** something she's hiding. This **thing** about Harry._

_Well, whatever the hell it is, it's messing up my sex life. I really need to figure out what it is. Raven said that he needed it. Needed what, though? Sex? A friend? Even for Harry, with the way Raven's making it sound, it seems so shallow if that's all it is._

_Honestly, it could be anything. But apparently it's something I can give him, or she wouldn't have started the bet._

_You know, I think I'll ask her what **really** made her start this whole bloody thing._

_Ooh, perfect. Here she comes.

* * *

_

Draco closed his journal and set his quill down just as Raven approached his table at the library.

"Hullo, Love," she Slytherin-ishly cooed, bending over to place a sensuous kiss on his lips before sitting down next to him.

"Hi," he answered, licking his lips and savouring the taste. As she situated herself, Draco decided to try the surprise method.

"Why did you think of the bet?"

That stopped her, pausing as she set her bag down on the table. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Why'd you start it? Why Harry? Was it really just about sex? To quench your aching need to see two hot guys go at it?" Raven jaw dropped open at Draco's flippant tone and words. "Don't look at me like that, Raven," Draco admonished. "I've known you long enough. Slytherin though you may be, you're still a girl. A vindictive, devious one, but a girl nonetheless. You've been unconsciously dropping hints for ages. Perhaps you've gone softer than you'd like to think."

The dark-haired girl's shocked features immediately dropped into an icy glare. "Don't take that patronising tone with me, Draco Malfoy." His eyes narrowed and he gazed steadily back at her but said nothing. "You're certainly one to talk. And you think you know me so well, do you? Well, I can assure you that _because_ of your inability to 'go soft', you've managed to miss quite a bit of who I am; regardless of how much I had already changed when I saved your sorry ass from your father."

Draco mouth opened in shock, but he quickly composed himself into barely suppressed rage. Just as he re-opened his mouth to spit out a rather hurtful comeback, Raven stood abruptly, snatching her bag from the table and practically running out of the library.

The blond watched her go, wanting so badly to lash out at her, to hurt her like she did him, with that jab at his father. _Fucking bitch,_ Draco thought, a growl starting in the back of his throat. He seethed for a few moments, trying to decide just what he should do, and thinking about what Raven had actually said.

"You seem upset, care to talk about it?" a voice cut through his musings, and Draco turned around to find Granger standing in the aisle, looking as though she was just on her way out.

Draco sneered. "I hardly need your help, Granger."

Hermione moved around the table and sat down across from him. "So there is something wrong," she said knowingly.

Draco cursed under his breath, and then rolled his eyes. "Okay, _yes_. There's something wrong. Now you can leave. I can deal with it myself."

Hermione gazed at him calculatingly for a moment before propping her chin up on her hand. "You've never been a _real_ relationship with anyone before, have you, Malfoy?"

"W-what? How-" he sputtered, before finally gaining his voice back. "How _dare_ you presume so much about me!" _Regardless of the fact that it's true…_

"SHHH!" A few other library patrons scolded, before going back to their work.

Draco just huffed, and levelled a glare at Hermione. "You know _nothing_ about me, Granger. You have no right to start meddling in my life."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Well, what if I wanted to know more about you, Malfoy? After all, you've been getting awfully close with Harry, who happens to be my best friend…I think I have a right to get to know you a little better." She paused. "So…what just happened between you and Raven?"

Draco tried to bore holes into Hermione's skull with his eyes, but apparently, she was immune to it. Or perhaps, Draco really _was_ getting soft, but just a little too late. Sighing heavily, Draco mumbled something mostly unrevealing, "We had a fight."

"Obviously," she deadpanned. "What was it about?"

The Slytherin glared at her again, but eventually averted his gaze and replied, "About…each other, I guess. She said that I presume too much about her."

The pretty Gryffindor tilted her head to the side. "And _do_ you?" When Draco shot her a confused look, she clarified, "Do you presume too much about her?"

He bit his lip and looked away. "Maybe. I don't know." He sighed. "Why the hell am I talking to you?" he asked, turning to look at the woman in the eye.

Hermione shrugged and begun to pick up her things. "Maybe you just needed someone to talk to." Draco watched her silently, his whirling thoughts growing heavy in his head. Hermione paused before she stepped away. "You may still be an ass to me and Ron, Malfoy, but Harry considers you a friend, even if he hasn't said as much. And if Harry cares about you, than so will I." And with that statement, she walked away, leaving Draco to ponder the past twenty minutes of his life.

* * *

Raven ground her teeth as tears started to well up in her eyes. She was nearly there, to the door of the library. The second she burst through the doors, she thought about turning left to the art wing, but quickly thought better of it. She was in no state to be painting. So she continued through the next set of doors, the late afternoon breeze cutting into her like it hadn't done before when she was walking in the opposite direction. Autumn was definitely making itself known, and seemed to have no qualms about letting everyone one know that the winter storms were going to be much worse than usual. 

She looked up into the darkening sky, watching as even darker grey clouds rolled in from the sea. She could smell the change in the air, the electrical charge humming through everything around her, the metallic tang of the threatening rain. Noting the ironic similarities between her mood and the weather, she swallowed hard, trying to force the tears back down, but they wouldn't obey, and she was wiping the salty substance off of her cheeks before she knew it; turning quickly and running past the library, past Number One, and into the forest.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was cutting across the large courtyard of the school when he saw Raven come out of the library, obviously looking very upset. He picked up the pace to meet up with her, but then she turned abruptly and ran off into the woods. He took off after her, hoping that she wasn't stupid enough to _actually_ go into the woods when there was obviously a nasty rainstorm heading their way. 

"Raven!" He yelled to get her attention, but she didn't seem to hear him. She just continued to plough through the woods, and Blaise stopped, just at the edge of the trees. "Dammit!"

"I know where she's going, if you really want to follow her," a voice said from behind Blaise, and he whipped around to find Harry Potter standing there, a stoic look on his face.

Blaise scowled. "Do you now?"

Potter nodded. "The cove. About a ten minute walk north of here." He looked up to the rapidly darkening sky, just as the first droplets of water splattered onto his glasses. Looking back down he gave Blaise a once over, noticing the man's nice robes and shoes. "But I'll go, if you don't want to."

Blaise glared at the dark-haired green-eyed man. Stepping forward, he said in a dangerously low voice, "Don't think you have one up on me just because Raven and Draco have decided to get all friendly with you, Potter. And don't think I haven't noticed that, either." Blaise leaned back slightly, towering over the smaller man. "If this has anything to do with you, you'll live to regret it." And with that, Blaise turned and entered the forest, nearly running to catch up with Raven.

"I don't doubt that, Blaise," Harry said to his disappearing form. "I don't doubt that at all."

* * *

_A/N: Whew! Another chapter down, and another undetermined number to go! I've got a lot to say, so please bear with me._

_Firstly, as I've mentioned before, I am currently without a beta. _:( _**So, I am now shouting out to everyone who would like to beta for me.** I really do try to write as fast as I can, but I've found that most of my delays are due to lack of quick/reliable beta-ing. Now, I understand RL getting in the way (hell, it gets in the way for me too) but I need someone (or some people) who are pretty reliable. Unfortunately, I don't have internet in my flat yet, so talking online will occur few and far between. If you'd like to beta for me, all you really need is a very good understanding of the English language, and enthusiasm. If you'd like to beta, either e-mail me or leave your e-mail address in your review (remember to put in spaces! Fanfiction won't put anything after the (at) symbol!)  
_

_Secondly, I'd like to remind you all of my** yahoo group**: groups. yahoo. com/ group/ raesmusings (Either delete the spaces, or go to my user page and click on 'homepage'.) It's an age restricted site, though, so you'll have to sign in to get there, and then join the group to see anything. (Don't worry, I won't spam you with e-mails.) Once this story starts getting there, there will be a different version (NC-17) on the yahoo site, and regular 'R' or 'M' here on fanfiction. I've recently uploaded a 'photo' of "Raven" in the photo gallery, which will probably make more sense in the chapters to come. So **MO—**you now finally have a pic of Raven to throw darts at. Have fun. :D_

_I'd like to say now, that without my reviewers, I would have dropped this story a long time ago. I LOVE getting reviews, good or bad, short or long, gushing or critiquing…I like them all, so please, please let me know what you think!_

_And that ties into what I had mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, about my new temp-beta, _**twodollartrick**_ He had not only been a faithful reviewer, but a valuable friend and a wonderful person to talk with and get advice from. And he also came through for me when I needed a new beta, quick! I love you, Jordan!_

_Also, another shout out must go to_**MachiavellianOrange**_, who has also been a valuable asset in my on-line life as of late. The great thing about her is that she's one of the few people who hate "Raven" with an unadulterated passion, give me a valid reason for it, and _still_ continue to read the story! And I love her for that, I really do. I can't relay the awesome-ness (I know it's not a word, spare me) of having someone to have extremely intelligent conversations with, and who also can give me an opinion from the other side of things. She also offered to beta for me, even though she's busy, and to give me as much encouragement as she could. I really value your opinion, MO, I really do._

_And as for the story/chapter…I know you are all getting restless for some Harry/Draco action (excuse me, some REAL Harry/Draco action), and I'll be frank in saying that I really don't know how much longer it'll be. Originally, ages ago, I thought it would have happened somewhere around chapter ten, but chapter ten came and went and now I'm starting chapter fourteen, and I still can't say when it'll be. Every time I sit down to write, it keeps getting pushed farther and farther away, and I'm sorry for that. I want it to be as perfectly written as possible, of course, and getting everything to lead up to it is beginning to become a challenge. I've got too many ideas that keep popping into my head as to which would be better, and just when I think I've made up my mind, it decides to change on me anyway. So—that being said, I'll try to get to it as soon as possible, but my chapters like to start and end themselves, and so I can't give anyone a definite answer about timing. _

_So, in the near future, and in no particular order: Chicken Cacciatore, a book on sex, terrifying dreams, an obsession with photography, an interesting sexual encounter, and a bout of self-doubt. But now, _whom_ these things involve is the real question. _; )

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

**(Woohoo! I have one hundred reviews! -does a little happy dance-) **

**Fifespice, HP Girl 28, Windy River, Inu-nane, Read too much and ura-hd:** Thanks for reviewing!

**MO:** Don't apologise for not reading chapter eleven. It's alright, I get a lot of chapter alerts like that too.

About Harry falling for Raven…I wouldn't really say that he's falling _in love_ with her, he's just realising that he really is liking her, as more than a friend, although I think he's probably not realising the difference between really liking someone (not that he doesn't like her personality) and automatically liking someone (or the first person that shows interest) because of his underlying sexual frustration, which I haven't really covered. He's still dealing with his mental demons…he hasn't thought too much (until recently) about his sex drive; he just doesn't want to be lonely anymore, and automatically thinks Raven could fill that void…if it weren't for the fact that she's with Draco. So his long-neglected libido is starting to come to life, and because of his loneliness, wants Raven to fill the void (seeing as he hasn't begun to think of guys in that way-yet-). Obviously, I can't tell you what's going to happen, but things _will_ work out. In favour of our boys. It may not seem like it now, but it will happen.

Now, I agree that I've never _yearned_ to be in my friends' presence, but sometimes I just want to see or be around a certain one of my friends. But Harry feeling that way is just the beginning of the attraction he'll start to feel for the Slytherin.

And your comment about Draco throwing large, pointy rocks at Harry was kind of disturbing…I mean…you don't _really_ intend Harry harm, do you? ;P

Yes, Draco is pretty much realising he likes Harry on an intellectual level as well as a physical level. Unfortunately, he's _way_ ahead of Harry, and the poor Gryffindor will be left behind if something doesn't catch him up. (This, of course, will be coming in shortly.)

And I'm wondering if you can re-explain what you mean by your comments on the "I feel guilty" convo. I'm not sure I understand what you mean. I get the part about me building up to it, but I can't say I've ever noticed any other fanfictions bringing it in too early.

Are you really shocked that I'm a Gryffindor? I'm pretty sure I told you I was in my last letter to you (a month or so ago). Do I seem like a Slytherin or Ravenclaw? I must say, I hold traits of all three, but I'm not devious or malicious enough for Slytherin, nor studious enough for Ravenclaw. Do you know what you are?

And I find it interesting that my story made you hungry. I wonder why…?

Anywho…Thanks for your review, keep it coming with the 'Raven needs some serious bodily harm' comments. I really like getting them! (Too strange, I know.)

XOXOX

Rae

**Tod:** Thanks for the review! I'll pass your comment on to Raven. :P

**Licelli:** I'm glad you could finally read this chapter. (I'm sorry I was being so difficult and not just sending it to you. I hope you can understand my reluctance to just send copies of my writing out when there are already a few copies on the internet.) Thank you for your views on the story. You're right, of course, Draco's changing, and so is his relationship with Raven. As to why Raven initiated the bet…you'll find that out next chapter, I believe. It wasn't so much that Draco didn't have any lessons in humanity, he realised quite a bit of that during and after the war, but still retained some of his snarkyness from before. I hope that made sense. My brain's all over the place today. :P Anyway, thank you again for reviewing, and Raven's back this chapter…sorta. :D XOXOX Rae

**Jordan:** Ya know, I always feel bad that my reviews to you (on your stories) are never as long or as in depth. I feel like I'm cheating you, or something. I'll try my best to rectify that.

Now…as usual, I'm glad you liked all the little things in this chapter. I also feel like shaking Draco to get him to admit how he feels, but to be honest, I don't believe he really knows how he feels yet. He is realising that he's attracted to guys (or at least, Harry), but he's still in denial about how much he actually cares.

Actually, I laughed when I wrote Draco stupefying Harry, but because I truly thought it was funny. I'm cruel, aren't I? And yes, Draco was being uncharacteristically cute there. :D

And to your suggestion about the drawing of that passage with Harry and Draco and the mirror…I'll see what I can do, but of course, if anyone else wants to try…I'm not the best artist…it takes for-bloody-ever for something to come out right.

I'm really sorry the next part made you upset…although I'm not exactly sure what kind or upset you mean. Could you please tell me? It sounds bad, but perhaps I'm reading too much into it. And, I'm sorry that they didn't snog. You're getting really eager, aren't you? lol. It'll come, love. Just be patient.

And to you're confusion, you're the only person (other than Jesse) you didn't understand that part (or at least, who's bothered to tell me.) So here's the explanation (and PLEASE tell me if you get it, or if it should change it somehow). No, Harry didn't have an erection. Draco was just pointedly looking down in that direction to get Harry to realise what he was referring to without having to say it outright. Draco was asking him (in a veiled way) if Harry lets himself go when masturbating. If he let himself get messy and loud, or if he was quiet and stopped himself from getting it all over, so he wouldn't have to clean it up. I hope that makes sense…I can right you a more detailed e-mail later if you're still confused, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know if you are.

And no, of course, they weren't really fighting. It was just regular boys-rough-housing, kind of shadow of any of their previous physical fights (or ones they never got to have) from their school-days. Harry didn't like being teased, and knew he couldn't win a battle of wit, so went for the physical instead. Draco may be just as strong, but he's a sissy when it comes to physical pain.

Anywho, enough of my rambling. I hope you like this chapter, and the next. I love you! Take care! XOXOX Rae

**Summer Roxy:** First, thank you for reviewing! Secondly, Harry's oblivious because he's not looking for it. He is noticing that some of Draco's behaviour is kind of odd, but at the same time, doesn't know whether Draco's always like that or not. Remember, they may have been enemies, and watched each other a lot, but Harry isn't like Draco, he's not one to pick up on things as fast, especially lately, when all he'd been trying to do before was just avoid the blond git. Also, a lot of what Draco's feeling and his outward reactions are generally behind Harry's back, so of course, Harry wouldn't notice them. But slowly, Harry will come to realise that Draco's insinuations mean more than just random comments and questions. And to your other comments, while Harry has been though a lot, he's been rather tired (for a long time, actually) of _not_ being happy. He wants to be trusting and just enjoy his new friendships. So, seeing Draco as just a friend means that he is feeling comfortable enough around him. To him, changing in front of Draco was like changing in the locker room, but without taking off his boxers (I would have mentioned it, if he had). And to both of them, holding hands is odd, like…something that just happened and helped them through some difficult conversations, and only now are they realising the implications. Remember earlier, Harry didn't think all that much of it when holding hands with Raven. It was a circumstance of the situation, not necessarily something affectionate. (at least, not in a more-than-friend way.) And as to Raven…yes, she's fading into the background a bit, but it'll be kind of up and down. She's not out of the picture by any means right now. Later, perhaps…

**Morniea Inglorion:** I'm glad you thought it was worth the wait. I'm really sorry I can't seem to get my chapters out faster. And no, I don't think there's a thing as too much caffeine. I love coffee and coke, so… Yes, Raven is indeed a Slytherin, and hopefully, what's coming at her (and at Draco, and Harry) won't kill them. Thanks for reviewing!

**Tabby:** You're not the first person to have those concerns. All I can say, without revealing too much, is that things will work out alright in the end. And unfortunately, I can't guarantee no Raven, but I haven't written that part yet, and we'll just have to see how it works out. My perceptions of my stories are changing all the time, so my stories tend to change a little too. Thank you for reviewing!

**Terin:** Thank you for your kind review. I'm trying to be as realistic as I can. I can't wait to hear from you again!

**dieStrum: **I'm not sure how long this story will be. When I started, I thought originally it would be around ten to fifteen chapters…god, I laugh at that thought now. No…it'll probably be somewhere closer to thirty. Maybe forty. I honestly have no clue. But thank you for reviewing again!

**TheFlamingPhoenix:** Wow! Thanks! I really don't think I'm that good, but then again, you aren't the first person to say something like that. Thank you again!

**SirenLore:** Thank you for favouriting me! It makes me very happy to hear that someone likes my story so much, and that you like Raven as well. (Some do, some hate her. I don't blame them.) Anyways, thanks for reviewing!

**Snoopy Sayles:** Don't worry, I'm sure if hard-pressed, every single Harry Potter and or other fandom fan would say they've fantasised or been perverted towards imaginary characters…I also happen to do the same about Dan and Tom…regardless of the fact that their six and four years my junior, respectively. :P Thanks for reviewing!

**THANK YOU ALL, AND PLEASE REVIEW!**


	13. Love Will Weather Any Storm

_**Chapter Notes:** First on the agenda, is thanking four VERY VERY wonderful people. **Erin, Toni, Michelle, and Jordan**. They all beta'd for me on this chapter, and I really can't thank them enough. Send them all lots of chocolates! (Or anything else they desire…)_

_In relation to that, I am most pleased to introduce **IcyAurora8**, **misterjones**, and **MachiavellianOrange** as my new betas! YAY! They, of course, were three of the aforementioned people…can you guess who's who? ; )_

_Second, is that, while I'm hoping I will get these chapters out in a more timely fashion, I'm afraid it won't be happening with chapter fourteen. It's still a possibility, mind, but I'm having some difficulties with it, not to mention my muse is disappearing on me, and my school and work load are only getting heavier. And when May 19th rolls around…-shudders- I don't even want to think of it. I work at a movie theatre, and when Star Wars comes out…urgh. Bad thoughts._

_And I dedicate this chapter to **MachiavellianOrange. **Without you, MO, I think I would lead a rather boring and contrite life. And I just **had** to use your name somewhere in my story, so here it is! Here's to fun conversations, long e-mails, sex and MNH. All my love and hugs and kisses to you forever. **  
**_

_Anyway, enough rambling! Enjoy!

* * *

_

**The Bet**

**Chapter XIII – Love Will Weather Any Storm

* * *

**

_30 September 2003_

_Thirty minutes later._

_Raven and I just fought. She didn't bother answering my question, and even managed to insult me by shoving her 'rescue' in my face. Then she walked away before I could come back at her. I'm so fucking pissed off, but then **someone** had to show up and stop me from going after her, actually managing to make me think about things before lashing out; not to mention giving me more to think about._

_Hermione Granger._

_Dammit! It's not like I fuckin' wanted to talk to her in the first place—it's not like I could tell her about the bet, she'd hex me before I could twitch an eyebrow. But she still managed to get me to talk. Not that she wouldn't have figured it out anyway. NO, I didn't say a thing about the bet, but she knew something had happened between Raven and I, and proceeded to stick her overly curious Gryffindor nose into it. I'm pretty sure she didn't actually hear anything though. If she had…well, like I said, I wouldn't be here right now._

_And then she gave me that 'more' for me to think about. She said that if Harry cared about me, then so would she. I think that was her way of saying that if I needed advice on women, that I could go talk to her. Ha! I don't need advice on women, I need advice on Potter. Raven I can deal with, regardless of how she hurt me. I realise now that she probably didn't mean it. The way I approached her probably wasn't the best way; I think I let some of my sexual frustration show through without meaning to, and that set her off._

_Oh, fuck. Here comes Potter now.

* * *

_

Harry wasn't quite sure what had been going on with Raven, but he did see her come out of the library as he left Number One, and so he quickly made his way inside said building, just as the wind and rain started to get worse.

He saw Draco at his usual table near the back, and headed straight for him, but someone grabbed a hold of his robe sleeve before he could make it much farther into the large room.

Whirling around, he came face to face with Hermione, who was between the first two rows of books.

Smiling, he greeted, "Hermione! What's up?"

Hermione returned his greeting with a solemn gaze, and the smile immediately dropped from Harry's face. "You're going to see Draco, aren't you?" she asked quietly.

"Er…yeah," Harry answered, a bewildered frown growing on his face. "Is there a problem with that?" he asked with a little edge in his voice.

"No." She answered curtly. "I just thought I'd warn you that he and Raven just had a little tiff, and so I don't think he's in the best of moods."

"Oh, I see. Yeah, I just saw Raven outside, looking rather upset, and I was wondering what had happened."

Hermione nodded. "Just tread carefully." Harry nodded and moved to step away. "Oh, and Harry?" Hermione called.

"Yeah?"

"Malfoy's still a right prat, but if you see some good in him, then I'll try to too." It was said with a small smile gracing her lips.

Harry smiled. "Thanks Hermione. That means a lot. I'm assuming Ron's talked to you about this morning?"

Hermione blushed slightly and nodded. "Yes. He's…well; he's still having a hard time getting over it, Harry. He's just really worried about you. And so am I." She paused slightly, before continuing, "We're here if you need to talk to us, Harry. About anything."

Harry leaned forward and gave Hermione a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I know 'Mione. And I appreciate it." Then he stepped away and was gone, continuing on to his original destination.

Hermione sighed. She hoped beyond all hope that things would work out. For all parties involved.

* * *

"Raven!" 

Blaise was now a sopping wet mess of Zabini goo, trudging through the mud, rain, and leaves, trying to get to Raven. It wasn't that she was so far away from him, it was just that she seemed to know the path through these woods quite a bit better than him, and he was finding it hard to manoeuvre through all the fallen logs and bushes in his path. It was like every step he took only slowed him down.

"Raven!" he called again against the wind, hoping that the girl would finally hear him and stop.

"GO AWAY, BLAISE!" she screamed back. _Oh good. She did hear me…_

"NO!" he yelled back, and through the rain and grey darkness of the woods, he saw Raven's darker form fall down a few metres ahead. "RAVEN!" He pushed through the leaves and branches harder, stumbling down next to Raven's kneeling form, and gathered her up in his arms. She was crying, her legs and skirt and robes covered in mud and leaves, her dark hair plastered to her forehead and shoulders.

"Raven…Raven, what's wrong? What's happened?" Blaise asked gently in her ear, rocking her back and forth.

"I just…I…Draco Malfoy's an absolute _jerk_!" She gripped his robes tightly, pressing her face into his chest.

Blaise sat there stunned for a moment before chuckling. "Oh? Raven, I hate to say this, but how could you not realise this before?"

Raven looked up, blinking the rain and tears away. "What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Raven…I've watched the two of you become closer and closer, and I swear I was just waiting for it to blow up in your faces. You guys have been in love for so long, and yet you've never fought. Not about relationship things, in any case. You dance around each other using your natural Slytherin charms, yet neither of you knows how to act in a real relationship."

"And when did you become such an expert on relationships, Blaise? I can't remember any particular relationships of yours getting past the 'let's just fuck' phase." Raven said bitterly.

Blaise had the good grace to blush but flippantly said, "I've had a few…but they were all at Hogwarts." He shrugged and quickly waved her next string of questions off. "Anyway, even though my relationships haven't always been the best, I _have_ noticed that every couple has to _really _fight at some point; I'd think there was something wrong with you and Draco if you hadn't."

Raven sniffed. "Jeeze, thanks a lot, Blaise. Now I can go running back into Draco's arms and live life happily-ever-fucking-after."

"Okay, let's try this. What were you guys fighting about?" the dark-haired man asked, holding Raven closer as they both shivered.

Raven sighed and rubbed the tears from her face, leaving mud trails in her wake. Blaise chuckled, and said before Raven could reply to his question, "How about we go inside first, and get you all cleaned up. Come on," he urged, shifting to stand and help Raven up.

Raven just rolled her eyes. "You know, for all the Slytherins in the world, I swear you and Draco are the vainest. And you're both men. I was perfectly happy rolling around in the mud like a pig."

Blaise laughed. "There's the Raven I know. Never one to stay sober for long."

"Oh shut up, you twat."

They trudged back through the mud and leaves, Raven occasionally shifting them in the right direction. After about ten minutes, they were more soaked by rain and mud than before, if that was even possible. Blaise led them to Number Three, which was closest, and using a quick cleaning spell, Raven had both of them rain and mud-free and ready to take nice hot showers.

"You take the bigger one," Blaise offered, leading Raven upstairs and into the larger bathroom, which sat just next to Draco's room. "Here, I'll get you a towel." And the Slytherin left, coming back a moment later with a few towels, leaving again for the other bathroom.

Raven stared at the closed door for a moment, and then turned to the mirror, taking in her bedraggled appearance. Slowly, she peeled off her clothes, until all that was left was her bra and knickers. Gazing at herself, dark hair contrasting pale skin contrasting black undergarments, she let the tears well back up in her eyes, not bothering to wipe them away this time. Sitting down on the toilet, she cried, not knowing what it was exactly she was crying for.

* * *

"Hey, Draco." 

"Potter."

Harry sighed. "Okay, I know you just had a spat with Raven, so I'll let it go this time."

"Oh? So you talked to Raven, then?"

Harry shook his head and sat down. "No. I did see her though. She ran into the woods."

Draco glanced out of the large window next to him where all he could see was darkness, with the occasional white of the water breaking below them. The rain and wind were rattling the glass, and Draco turned back to Harry with a scowl. "And you let her?"

"Blaise followed her in."

Draco looked away again and breathed out heavily through his nose. "So who told you then? It must have been Granger. I tell you, she's about as nosy as Gryffindors come."

Harry smirked. "Yes, I suppose she is. Even to me. And yes, she's the one who told me. You wanna talk about it?"

Draco shrugged, still not looking at Harry. "It doesn't matter, now. I started the conversation off aggressively, and Raven retaliated in kind, we both said things we didn't mean, and she left. The only way to deal with it now is to either ignore it, or talk to her."

"You mean apologise?"

Draco's head snapped to Harry's face, and he glared. "No. Slytherins don't apologise, Potter. We get even."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, Draco, I may not be an expert on relationships, but I have a feeling that 'getting even' with her is not the correct way to go about things."

Draco sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I know, I know. I'm just…I'm not good at this sort of thing. I automatically want to fall back into old habits."

"I understand." Harry paused for a moment before asking, "Do you think Raven feels sorry for whatever she said to you?"

The blonde's eyes opened, and he shrugged. "I'd hope so. In fact, I'd assume so, if she ran into the forest after talking with me."

Harry nodded. "She looked rather upset. I think that you're both sorry."

Draco nodded absently. "I think so too."

Harry turned his gaze to the window, noting that almost all he could see was his reflection against the glass. "Do you think practice is cancelled?"

Draco followed Harry's gaze. "Looking at that, I'd hope so. I don't care if there is a game this weekend. I'm _not_ going out in that."

Harry grinned. "Always the vain one, aren't you, Slytherin?"

"Always the brave one, aren't you, Gryffindor?" Draco shot back. The men smiled at each other for a minute before something clicked in Draco's brain and he suddenly started packing his things.

"Draco? What's wrong?"

"Raven…Raven and Blaise are out there in this…"

Harry's brain seemed to click as well, and they scrambled to collect their things and get outside before the storm got any worse. They burst through the library doors and headed straight for the forest, ignoring people's stares and calls as everyone tried to get inside, away from the storm.

* * *

Raven let the hot water wash away the tears and chill, easing her mind, and warming her skin. Thinking back on what had happened that evening, it became apparent that she needed to apologise to Draco. There was really no excuse for her harsh words. She knew she didn't mean what she said, and what Draco had said to her certainly didn't warrant _that_ kind of response. She wasn't quite sure why she lost her cool; perhaps it was a lot of things—stress from school, pressure from Draco, and his obvious jibe about her intent regarding the two men, not to mention the strange dreams that she'd been starting to have… 

It was a wonder she wasn't just about going insane.

Turning off the water, she stepped out of the tub, wrapping herself in a towel. Looking at the fogged-over mirror, she took a hand and wiped a bit of the condensation off where her face was, gazing in contempt at her reflection. She had never before felt any self-hatred towards her looks, more than enough men had told her she was beautiful, and were probably doing it just to get into her skirt (not that it did any of them any good; Raven may have loved getting compliments, but she didn't sleep around). Experimented with many boys at Hogwarts, maybe, but sleep around…no. Yet today; looking at her fair skin, sprinkled with freckles; her dark green eyes, dull with many troubles; and her long black hair, falling heavily around her shoulders; she felt an unfamiliar bubble of disgust rise up from her stomach. How could Draco stand to love her, when she could hardly find it in her to love herself anymore?

Sighing heavily and shoving the very uncharacteristic thoughts away, she went about drying her hair, twisting the long locks in a towel. A knock on the door sounded, and Blaise's voice was heard from the other side.

"Raven? Are you done? I have a spare set of clothes for you to hang out in if you want."

Raven walked over to the door and opened it. Blaise was standing there in dark blue pyjama pants and tee shirt, holding a pile of clothes.

"Do you have a brush too?"

Blaise chuckled. Running a hand through his short spikes, he answered, "I have a comb…is that alright?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine."

Blaise held out the clothing. "Erm…they'll probably be a little big on you…but the pants have a drawstring, and you can roll up the legs…"

"That's fine, Blaise. Thank you." Raven took the proffered clothing and closed the door, saying, "I'll meet you down stairs in a bit. Bring your comb."

"Okay."

As Raven found out, Blaise was indeed right about the clothing being a bit too big for her. Blaise was about four inches taller than she was, and so the dark green pants he gave her had to be rolled up. Their waists were actually pretty close, and once the pants were over her hips, they stayed up just fine. But it was the matching shirt that was the problem. It was long sleeved, but was pretty tight around the chest, whether she had a bra on or not. She actually opted without one—she'd never really liked the blasted things anyway. So she unbuttoned the top two buttons to alleviate some of the pressure on the closures.

Once she was dressed, she grabbed her things and the dirty towels and headed downstairs to the lounge area, where Blaise was sitting on the couch nearest the hearth. A bright, warm fire blazed inside, casting the darkened room in shadows. Blaise looked up when she entered.

"I sent everyone else upstairs, so we could talk," he said, standing up and taking the towels from her.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," she replied, setting her bag down and charming her clothes dry and folding them on top.

"Nonsense. Of course I did. You're family to us, Raven. Well, the Slytherins at any rate. They understand. And…" Blaise turned around, picked up a mug from a table, and handed it to her. It was filled with hot chocolate.

"Oh, Blaise…_chocolate_…every woman's first love."

Blaise grinned. "I thought you might like some. To help warm you up a bit more."

Raven sipped a bit of the smooth liquid. "Hmm, yes, this is just what I needed."

Blaise threw the towels on a nearby chair as he and Raven settled down on the couch. "I have that comb you wanted," he said, taking the object off of the low table in front of them.

Raven twisted around in her seat so that she was facing away from Blaise. "Could you?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied, and moved closer to the girl and started running the comb through her hair.

"Ow! Blaise, you're supposed to start from the bottom and work your way up."

"Sorry. I'm not a girl; my hair's never been past my ears, how was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't, mistake on my part. I should have told you." She sipped more from the mug in her hands. After a moment of silence, Blaise finally spoke again.

"So…you wanna tell me what happened?"

Raven sighed. "Draco and I fought, is all. I barely said hello to him, and he started firing off questions at me. And…it startled me, I guess. Threw me off. I reacted badly. So badly, in fact, that I think I should have been disowned as a Slytherin for a moment, there," she chuckled sadly.

"Hmm…" Blaise murmured, still working through Raven's long hair. "May I ask what kind of questions he asked to make you react so badly?"

Raven shrugged. "Stuff about Harry. Stuff about me. He made an assumption about how well he knew me, and it pissed me off. So I…I shot back at him with a jibe about the…the 'liberation.'" The last was said quietly, laced with shame.

Blaise nearly dropped his comb. "You _what_?"

"I know."

"Raven…"

"I _know_," she said, her voice sounding pained. "I know I shouldn't have said that. Gods, I must have hurt him so badly…I just…I wasn't thinking." She dropped her head into her free hand.

"You were most certainly _not_ thinking, Raven!" Blaise reprimanded. "I…I can't believe you said something like that…"

"I know, Blaise. I know. You don't know how sorry I am that I even thought of saying such a thing."

It was a silent agreement between the three Slytherins not to mention Draco's 'liberation' or 'rescue' from his father that night, all those years ago. And if it ever was mentioned or referred to, it most certainly was _not_ _ever_ used to hurt one another. There was no reason to even think about using it that way. But Raven had crossed that line, and she regretted it more than anything.

Blaise resumed the combing of Raven's hair. "You're going to apologise to Draco, right?" he asked, his tone brooking no argument.

"Of course. As soon as he comes home."

And as lucky and cliché as it was, Draco and Harry, at that moment, burst in through the front door, sopping wet, and both looking muddier than even Blaise and Raven had been. Upon seeing Blaise and Raven through the open entryway of the lounge, immense looks of relief spread on both of their faces, and Harry closed the door behind them, both of them slumping to the ground in shivering heaps.

"Draco! Harry!" Raven shot up from her position on the couch and scrambled over to the two men, dropping her hot chocolate on the floor. "Oh my god…what…oh Merlin, it doesn't matter. I'm just so glad you're both safe!"

Draco's eyes flashed with hurt and anger, but he smiled wryly up at her anyway. "I'll forgive you as soon as I'm clean and warm."

Raven and Blaise sighed in relief. It was a start, anyway.

* * *

Draco and Harry tried their hardest to follow the correct path to the cove, and even spread themselves out a little to make sure they were covering their bases. But their search was becoming more and more daunting as they approached the cove. The wind was picking up, and although they had a bit of shelter amidst the copse of trees, the rain continued to pour harder, feeling much colder and icy when the wind managed to sweep below the branches and leaves. 

At one point, Harry found some footprints in the mud, and an area where the leaves were churned up in the mucky substance, looking like a rather unappetising forest stew. They couldn't see signs that the 'trail' led any further into the forest, but Draco refused to go back—there was always the chance that one of them got hurt, or one made it to the cove, and one didn't—with the dense brush lining the forest floor, it was hard to tell just where they had gone without crawling through the muck themselves.

So they continued on, calling for Raven and Blaise, and becoming more and more panicked as they neared their destination. When they finally made it to the cove, they were flooded with relief that no one was there, as looking down, they saw that the cove was filled with water, the wind sweeping down into the cul-de-sac and breaking the sea hard against the rocks below.

Unfortunately, their relief was short lived, as they still had not found the pair of Slytherins, so they quickly turned back around and went back the way they came, moving as fast as their mud-bogged legs and feet would let them. Draco mused aloud as they broke through the forest and headed to Number Four that they were probably worried about nothing—they were wizards, not to mention ex-Death Eaters, they should be able to take care of themselves, right?

Of course, Harry had answered, running up the steps to Number Four and knocking harshly on the door.

But again, their relief was short lived, as neither Raven nor Blaise was there. So they quickly said thanks to a bewildered Daphne Greengrass and pushed themselves the last few yards to Number Three, practically falling through the door.

Draco's first thought upon seeing the two in the lounge was, _Oh, thank Merlin, they're both safe…_ and his second thought was, _Is he _brushing_ her _hair And of course, his third thought was, _Wait, I'm supposed to be mad at her…so why have I been so worried?_ But leaning back against Harry as they both slumped to the floor, Draco couldn't find himself to care so much. Especially not with that worried look Raven was giving him right now.

"I'll forgive you as soon as I'm clean and warm," he said, finally relaxing as Harry chuckled in his ear, and Raven and Blaise sighed out loud.

* * *

After the boys had showered and dressed in clean, dry pyjamas (Harry borrowing a green pair from Draco),all four of them proceeded to squish onto the couch, Blaise and Harry on the ends and Raven and Draco in the middle. All it took was a glance between the two dark-haired men, and while Harry held nothing against Blaise, Blaise decided to look over any harsh feelings he was currently harbouring against the Gryffindor, so the two could work together to get Raven and Draco on good terms again. 

They all sat on the couch for a few minutes, talking amicably, as if nothing was wrong between any of them at all. But after a few minutes of describing just how they had missed each other in the last hour or so, they quickly lapsed into silence, all of them knowing that the _reason_ behind it all would need to be discussed at some point.

Feeling rather uncomfortable, Harry started to fidget slightly. "Erm…"

Draco, who was sitting next to him, rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Oh honestly, you two. We all know that you're about to spout a stupid excuse about having something else to tend to, so that Raven and I will be alone, so why don't you just bugger off already. We're adults, I don't think things will come to blows."

Harry blushed and Blaise laughed.

"Alright, alright. C'mon, Potter. I'm sure none of us has eaten yet tonight. You think you're up for cooking?" Blaise stood and stretched.

Harry stood as well. "It depends. There isn't necessarily anything I can make that's spectacular, but I'll help."

The two men started walking out of the room. "Perfect. I think I'm going to make my Nonna's Chicken Cacciatore…"

Once they were out of the room, Raven looked down to Draco and said, "Well, aren't they a happy little couple?"

Draco snorted. "It's doubtful. Harry told me when we were upstairs that Blaise issued somewhat of a threat before going into the forest to find you."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Hmm…"

They sat in silence for a while before Raven spoke again. "I know you've always told me not to do this, but I want to apologise. For what I said to you. Regardless of what you said, it was completely uncalled for."

"I agree."

"Draco," Raven deadpanned, nearly glaring at the man sitting next to her.

"What? Look, Raven, you know I'm no good at this. I just…" he sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair, causing the carefully brushed strands to become dishevelled. "I agree that what you said was completely uncalled for, but I also know that I came at you a little too harshly. So I…I'm sorry."

Raven leaned over and crawled into Draco's lap, straddling his hips and looking him directly in the eye. "Draco…the questions you asked were fair. And knowing you, you were probably trying to catch me off guard," she smiled wryly, and he returned the expression. "So…I'll answer you. But before I do that, I want you to understand that as much as we know each other, there are still things that I have not told you. Not about my past…you know all about that. But there are things…recent, bothersome things which I haven't talked to you about."

Draco looked up at Raven and wrapped his arms around her waist, running his hands over the silk-covered skin. "Can you tell me these things? Do you _want_ to?"

Raven nodded and cupped his face in her hands. "Yes. After I've answered your questions."

"I can wait."

"Okay." Raven took a deep breath, and began speaking very softly, so that only Draco could hear her. "I won't bother telling you half-truths. I originally thought of starting the bet mostly on a whim; I had been watching Harry for a while, and knew that I was starting to like him. Part of it was and _is_ genuine concern, and the other part is sexual. I find him very attractive, Draco. And insatiable and Machiavellian as I am, I wanted to see if he was seducible."

"Why not just seduce him yourself?"

Raven smiled wily. "A few reasons. One, I knew that you'd be hurt and beyond confused by my actions, and two…" her smile grew wider and more sinister, "I've always wanted two men to myself."

"Oh, so you're man hoarder, are you?"

Raven shrugged. "Call it what you like. Anyhow, I noticed you looking at him that day, and then it hit me—I already knew that Harry wouldn't—not in a million years—want to be in any type of relationship with you, and you him, so…how do I fix that problem? Well, have _you_ seduce him instead. Get you both used to the idea, not to mention get past your silly animosity with each other."

"Killing two birds with one stone."

"Precisely." Raven stroked Draco's cheek with her thumb lovingly. "However, there was no way you'd just agree to do it, so what do you do to get a Slytherin to do what you want them to?"

"Challenge them. Make them think they can't do something."

"Exactly. You see, Draco, you knew exactly what I was doing, you just chose not to recognise it for what it really was. I said that you _couldn't_ seduce Potter. I _challenged_ your seducing ability. After I already had you thinking about his appearance, his body. And you took it, just like any Slytherin would, just like any _man_ would, just like _you_ would."

Draco playfully glared at his girlfriend. "So you got me. I promise you, it won't happen again."

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

"So the actual bet was just a whim?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And two hot guys going at it? Does that have a part in that whole nympho-driven mind of yours?"

"Oh, of course. That's just an intriguing bonus."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I see."

"So…did I answer your questions?"

"Yes. I suppose it'll have to do," he said with a grin, leaning up and capturing her lips with his. As their lips moved across one another, Draco snaked his hands under Raven's shirt, splaying his fingers out and lightly massaging the smooth plains of her back. She moaned into his mouth, shifting to get closer to him, twining her tongue with his. They sat for a long moment, losing each other in the sensations of kissing, finally pulling away when they desperately needed air.

"So," Draco said a little breathlessly, "would you like to tell me some of those other things now, or later when you stay over?"

Raven giggled. "Was that an invitation, Draco Malfoy?"

"Why yes, love, 'twas."

"Then I accept." She kissed him again and said, "Most of those things are really just stupid, like the fact that N.E.W.T.'s are coming up this year, and I _still_ don't know exactly what I want to do with my life. I love painting, and writing, but those things just seem so…"

"Mundane?"

Raven scrunched up her nose. "Muggle-like, actually. Like I could have been born a muggle and done the same things. Like what I want to do isn't anything wizard-like, other than the charms and potions to make things move."

"Are you saying you don't like muggles, Raven?" Draco asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Didn't you just tell me on Friday that you had picked up muggle photography?"

"Yes, yes. I have. Actually, that's another thing. A thing I'd actually like to talk to both you and Harry about."

"Oh? Ready to take those pornographic pictures of us?"

Raven laughed. "Perhaps. I'd like to do a few paintings based off the pictures, actually. I think taking the pictures and blowing them up to paint from would be easier than having you two sit or stand there for hours on end. A lot more comfortable for you, too."

"I would probably have to agree."

"Yes, so…I'll talk to you guys after dinner about that."

"Anything else?"

Harry suddenly poked his head in and said, "Dinner's ready, guys."

"Thanks," Draco said over his shoulder, glancing back to look at Harry, managing to catch the longing look on the Gryffindor's face before he turned back towards the kitchen.

"Did you notice that?" Draco asked quietly, still looking at the now empty entrance to the lounge.

"You mean the look on Harry's face when he saw us?"

"Yeah."

"Yes. I noticed."

Draco turned back to Raven. "That's what you've been talking about, isn't it? The thing about Harry?"

Raven smiled sadly. "I believe its part of it, yes." She pressed a quick kiss to Draco's lips before moving off of him. "Nothing to be done about it at this very moment…we'll just have to wait. Oh, and to answer your question: yes, there's more, but I think we should discuss it later. After dinner."

"Alone?" Draco asked, as he stood up and stretched.

"You really want to get me into bed, don't you?"

"Oh, I've already had you in my bed. I'm just waiting for the feature presentation."

"Oh Gods, Draco! And you call _me_ insatiable."

"Babe, you call yourself insatiable. I just happen to fall not far from the same tree."

* * *

The second Harry and Blaise got into the kitchen and out of earshot, Blaise took Harry roughly by the arm and said in a low voice, "Look, Potter, Raven and Draco are like family to me, so I just want to make sure you understand that I'll do anything to make sure that they're happy. And if that includes dealing with the fact that they've decided to incorporate you into their lives, then I'll live with it. But if you dare to even _think_ about fucking with their relationship-" 

Harry frowned and pulled his arm from the bigger man's grasp. "Look, Zabini, I'm not sure why you dislike me so much, but I can assure you that I feel the same way about Raven and Draco. I may not know them as well or as long as you have, but that doesn't mean I care for them any less. I won't lie to you; things are still a little awkward between Draco and I. We're both having problems getting used to this new change in the status of our relationship, but I'm trying. And so is he. I really don't think you have anything to worry about." He smirked. "Besides, I'm a Gryffindor, do you really expect me to set up an elaborate plot to befriend Draco and Raven? To 'fuck' with their relationship? There'd be no reason to. The war's over, we've all chosen our paths, there's nothing more to get past than our misguided animosity."

Blaise gazed blankly at Harry for a moment before his brow straightened and a smirk danced at the corners of his mouth. "You know, Potter, you make an awful lot of sense for a Gryffindor." Harry's smirk turned into a grin. "But that doesn't mean I like you."

Harry laughed. "I'm not expecting you to, Zabini. I don't think I'd be able to handle another Slytherin dying to become my friend after so many years of nothing."

Blaise chuckled. "Good. 'Cause it's not happening. It's not a matter of like or dislike, I just don't see the need to force things."

"Makes perfect sense. If you have no inclination, why bother?"

"Exactly. Well—how about we get going on that dinner?"

"Chicken Cacciatore, you said?"

Blaise nodded, going to the charmed cupboards where all the perishables were kept. "My Nonna's, actually. One of Raven's favourites." He stood, pulling out an array of veggies and some chicken.

"Do you cook for your dorm often?"

The Slytherin shrugged. "About once a week, usually on the weekends. The rest of the time, we're all too busy to really make one huge meal, so…" He pulled out a few cutting boards and a few knives, handing one of each to Harry, along with a few green peppers. "Cut this into half inch pieces."

"Do you all get along pretty well?" Harry asked as he went to work.

"You mean us Slytherins and Ravenclaws?" Blaise started chopping up some onions.

"Yeah."

Blaise shrugged. "Pretty well, by now. Why? You can't tell me you Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs aren't all sunshine and daisies over there in Number One."

Harry laughed. "No, we're all fine." Harry paused in thought before saying, "Blaise…have you ever noticed how we still associate ourselves with our houses from Hogwarts? Like…everything we do is just a representation of what are houses were…we're never really individuals. Does that make sense?"

Blaise shot a bemused sidelong glance at Harry. "No…I can't say I have noticed, but now that you mention it… Is it something you've been thinking of lately?"

Harry frowned. "No, not really. I guess I just realised that a lot of the little barbs Draco and I still throw at each other are always insults, but we always call one another by our old houses."

"Can you give me an example? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Like…I'm always calling him vain. So I say, 'always the vain one, aren't you Slytherin?' and he'll say something back, but using the name Gryffindor."

Blaise chuckled. "You know, Raven said something similar about both Draco and I earlier. She said we were the two vainest Slytherins she knows." Blaise handed Harry some olives, and took the garlic cloves from himself. "Could you chop the olives?"

"Sure." There was a pause as the strong smells of onions and garlic filled the air. Finally, Harry said, "So _are_ you?"

"Am I what?"

"As vain as Draco."

Blaise snorted. "I like to look good. There's nothing wrong with that." Harry caught the glance Blaise cast his way, which was more like a once over, pausing slightly at Harry's head.

"Don't even say it, Zabini. If I hear one more comment about my bloody hair…" Harry finished his chopping and set the olives aside.

"Well…since I certainly don't want to acquire bodily harm, I'll say the other thing that's on my mind." Blaise finished as well, and moved to get a large skillet.

"Oh? What's that?"

"You look good in green. And silk. Wear it more often."

A strange thought passed through Harry's mind, but before he could decide on whether or not to voice it out loud, his mouth decided for him. "You're not gay, are you?"

Blaise dropped the pan loudly on the old stove. Gazing blankly at Harry he said, "No. Are you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Hm." Was all Blaise said, before pouring water into the pan and setting the logs in the belly of the stove ablaze.

Harry gazed at the Slytherin, watching him work as he added some type of pasta to the boiling water, and then methodically added the freshly chopped garlic, green pepper and onion. Blaise asked him to cut the tomatoes into halves, and when he was done, Harry turned to the sink and started washing the knives and cutting boards, along with his hands.

"I wonder how they're doing," he mused quietly.

Blaise answered, "You hear anything?"

"No…"

"Then they're fine."

"You sure?"

Blaise nodded as he stirred the mixture. "They're rather nasty when they really fight. They nearly come to blows, sometimes."

Harry gaped at the man. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"I can't imagine them fighting like that. What do they fight about that gets them so riled up?"

"Oh, they used to fight about some pretty serious stuff. During the war."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But now they fight about stupid things, like clothes and hair."

Harry burst out laughing. "God, with Draco, I can _so_ see that." As his laughter died down, he said, "I'm assuming they don't fight very often."

"Nah. Even before they started dating they were as loving and playful as kittens, really. It was quite sickening to watch, actually."

"Hmm…Draco said that he and Raven aren't really the type to show their affections outwardly."

Blaise shot a look at Harry before magically extracting a majority of the water from the mixture and adding in the tomatoes Harry had cut. "Yeah, I suppose they aren't. But they show their affections differently than most other couples do, I'd surmise."

"Like how?"

"The little things. Looks, brief touches, words…" Blaise added a few different spices Harry didn't really know the names of to the mixture. "Well, words that have double meanings, anyway. I think they like to talk in riddles, sometimes."

Harry chuckled. "I can see that. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Set the table, I guess. The plates are over there," and he gestured over his shoulder to some cupboards. "I'll get the rest here."

"How many should I set it for?"

"I dunno. Ask upstairs if anyone wants some."

"I don't think I feel comfortable just wandering around your dorm, Zabini."

Harry didn't see it, but Blaise rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Cut the chicken into one-inch pieces, and once this simmers, add that, the olives and some of this Parmesan. Can you handle that?"

"To use the reference that I absolutely abhor, 'If I can take down the darkest lord of our time, I'm sure I can handle this.'"

Blaise smirked. "I'll go get everyone else." And with that he was out the doorway and up the stairs.

Harry did as Blaise asked, and just as he was finishing up, Blaise came downstairs with Graham Pritchard, Theodore Nott, Kevin Entwhistle, and Stewart Ackerley. "Michael's not here, so it'll be eight of us tonight."

"Alright," Harry said. "This is ready, I'll just go get Raven and Draco."

"Okay," Blaise replied, and took over the cooking helm.

Harry walked through the kitchen and foyer and tentatively poked his head into the lounge, seeing Raven sitting on Draco's lap, talking quietly. "Dinner's ready, guys," he said, and watched as the two lovers' reverie was broken, and Draco replied.

Harry's gaze lingered for a moment longer, inwardly smiling and cursing that he had to go fetch them. He was happy for the couple, yet the normally hushed aching need for the _something_ Harry hadn't quite bothered to look into had blossomed suddenly into a strong longing that he realised he had felt all along. His heart twinged slightly, and as much as he wanted to think it was just because he thought he was having feelings for Raven, he knew that that wasn't it. He wasn't jealous of Draco. He was jealous of the _both _of them. For having something that he couldn't seem to find.

Turning away from the room, he shuffled back into the kitchen to see Blaise putting the Chicken Cacciatore in a serving dish, and the other four boys finishing setting up the table in the dining room. Blaise looked up at him when he entered.

"Are you alright, Potter? Something's wrong with your face, I think."

Harry grimaced. "No. I'm fine. I always look like this."

"You didn't walk in on them having sex, did you?"

Harry's pained look quickly turned into one of shock. "_What_? No! Oh gods…" He shook his head as his cheeks flushed pink at the sudden visuals running through his head. "No. No, I didn't. They were just all snuggly."

"Who was all snuggly?" Draco's voice came from behind Harry.

Harry jumped slightly, turning around and catching Draco's gaze before quickly averting his eyes.

Blaise responded when Harry didn't. "I was just teasing Potter here. He had a funny look on his face, so I asked if he'd caught you two in the act."

Raven scrunched up her nose. "You're such a Neanderthal, Blaise. No class and no tact." Then she winked at Harry who had glanced up at her. "We weren't just having sex, we asked if he wanted to join in."

The pale shock on Harry's face caused Draco to burst out laughing, and soon they all started joining in, the men in the dining room coming in to see what the commotion was.

Blaise handed a serving dish and spoon to Graham, and hooked an arm around Harry's neck. Pulling him into the dining room he said lowly in Harry's ear, "Maybe you're not so bad, Gryffindor."

Harry finally smiled, although it was wryly. "Always one to laugh at another's expense, Slytherin."

"I wouldn't be a Slytherin if I didn't."

"And I wouldn't be a Gryffindor if I took it lying down."

"Too true. Now, let's eat!"

They all settled around the table, Harry between Draco and Blaise, and Raven on the other side of Draco, where they sat holding hands. When Harry smoothed down his napkin on his lap, he felt another's skin brush against the back of his hand, and looked down to see Draco's fingers tracing circles on his skin. Looking up, he caught Draco's eye, who smiled at him, and took Harry's hand in his. Looking further down the table, he saw Raven grinning at him as well, the look in her eyes signalling her approval of Draco's gesture.

Squeezing Draco's hand back, some of the longing in his chest abated, and he felt a kind of belonging, sitting there with Draco and Raven that he hadn't felt in a long time.

_Things are definitely changing._

_But I think it's for the better.

* * *

_

_**A/N:** So…what did you think? Things will soon be heating up. I swear it. Really. –glares- Fine. Don't believe me. :P_

_Just a **warning** for next chapter: the beginning will have a rather intimate scene between Raven and Draco, and I'm really sorry if you don't like it, but it's my story, and this is just the way it's going to be. I really wouldn't suggest skipping over the first passage, as it's rather important to the plot, but I can't stop you for the next part. I **WILL NOT** be putting in-story warnings, so you will just have to remember to skip down, if you find heterosexual relationships disgusting. (Of course, the only thing I have to say to that is 'think about how you got here'. **BUT**—there are also a few** semi-important** things said in the aforementioned scene, so skip at your own risk. I will be reiterating this at the beginning of the chapter, but just so you all have fair warning… I will not tolerate any flames about the subject. Heterosexuality is a fact of life. Things will happen between the boys in due time._

_In relation to that, there will be a **NC-17** version of the next chapter on my yahoo group. So, if you really don't care about het, and want it all, go there. But for this site, the beginning will probably be classified as 'R' or 'hard-R'. (We'll see what my betas have to say. –wink-)_

_Oh! My birthday is on May 3rd (yay! I'll be twenty-two!), and I'll try to post the next chapter by then. Hopefully._

_And I think that's all I have to say…but knowing me, I'm sure I'll think of something else in a week. lol_

_40 minutes later…okay, I thought of something. ; ) **It's important back-story, which I don't think I'll be covering within the story itself, so pay attention. **Quite a few of you had questions about Blaise. My answer to them is no, he's not gay and no, he doesn't like Raven. However, Blaise did have a bit of a crush on her in the past—back in their last year or so together at Hogwarts. Nothing ever happened, because then they were suddenly Death Eaters, and by that time, Raven had finally noticed Draco, and fell in love with him. Blaise knew it was hopeless for him, so didn't bother pursuing it, and instead, became really good friends with her. Remember that Draco and Blaise are almost two years older than her, and so when she was made a DE (at the same time as them), she was only 16, and they were nearly out of Hogwarts. She was kept as an operative within the student ranks of Hogwarts (reporting to Snape), and a year later (at age 17—old enough to apparate), she left Hogwarts to act in a more direct way with the Dark Lord, and a year after that, she and Blaise saved Draco. So what was happening in all these gaps of time? If Blaise and Draco were nearly out of Hogwarts, then what caused them to not finish school and take nearly three years completing their last year (or two, in Raven's case)? All I can say is, LOTS of things. **And this is **_**my_ version of the war, specifically for this story._**_ Their last two years were relatively okay at first, but there were constant interruptions when teachers and students were being attacked from nowhere, and soon, there was fear running in tremors school-wide. Everyone was nervous; even Draco, who had reassurances that he and the other DE children would be safe. Disruptions from the Ministry to ensure safety and to weed out traitors didn't help any, and by early 1997, there was an all-time low in attendance, by families wanting to keep their kids safe and closer to home, even while knowing that Hogwarts is nearly an impenetrable fortress. The school was effectively shut down by fear, and Harry and most of the Order stayed there to train and set up plans for an approach to the army of Voldemort's they knew was coming. Draco, Blaise and Raven were ordered to stay low, so that the ever growing alert numbers of Aurors didn't find them. Then, they were sent to distract everyone from the bigger battles that were taking place farther north, and that's when Draco was suddenly hit with the realisation that what he was doing was not what he had expected, and…the rest is history. The reason it took so long for them to complete their education was a few things (which I mentioned at the beginning of chapter one, I believe, but I'll restate here anyway). The first year or so was spent helping rebuild the wizarding and muggle worlds, as well as the government and foreign relations. Then they all had to be tested to see where they stood as far as educational level already achieved, and since then (about 2001-2002) they've been attending B.I. to finish their education, and many of them are taking even more specialised classes in their chosen field of interests._

_SO—I hope that cleared up all that. The reason I won't really be adding this to story-time is because everyone knows it happened, and generally how, so there's no need to really discuss it. Any questions…ask. _

**REVIEW RESPONSES**

**(much shorter, this time…)**

**From the Dark I Will Rise, Windy River, Anon, and ****Heather-Hezzer-and-Honaluki**: Thank you all for reviewing! I'm glad to have readers like you, and I hope to hear from you again.

**Mallowsweet:** Thank you very much for the compliment! And I agree with you about the OC thing…I'm glad you're not irritated by Raven, but my question is…what exactly are you curious to know about her? If you tell me, than maybe I can either tell you, or incorporate it into a chapter or two. :) And as to how Harry will find out about the bet, that information is directly related to the ending I have planned, and so, unfortunately, I can't tell you about it. But I can tell you, that it won't be clichéd. At least, I hope not. lol Thanks for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

**TheArtDisarray: **Thank you for offering to be one of my betas, Terin. I had so many people offer, and I must say, if I has said 'yes' to them all, then I wouldn't have hardly any readers! So, I'm sorry that I had already picked a few people by the time I got your review. I'll _definitely_ keep you in mind if the occasion arises again. :D

**jamesismysweetheart: **That's alright. Just write whatever you want; what you liked, what you hated, anything that confused you…whatever. And I'm glad I've got an obsessed reader…didn't you know it's my mission in life to try and obsess as many fanfic readers I can to love me and my stories, and cherish me and my stories, and…-ahem- nevermind. :P

**Morniea Inglorion: **Nope. Nothing going on with Blaise and Raven. Although I'm sure Blaise had a wayward crush on her at some point in the past, but realised that she loved Draco, and nothing was going to change that, so he let it go. And I hope this chapter answered your 'why Raven started the bet' question. And I agree…Harry does indeed need to catch up with Draco, and I know _just_ the thing…-evil grin- And Harry isn't _completely_ innocent. He's just…preoccupied…yeah… Thanks for reviewing!

**fifespice: **Thanks for reviewing, and the compliment. For info on Blaise…scroll up. If that still didn't answer your question, let me know exactly what you want to know, and I'll see if I can't answer your question.

**Opal Portia:** It's alright if you didn't review for other chapters, I'm just happy you reviewed for this one! I really do appreciate reviews, and I always try and see what other things my readers like, and maybe what they write, if they have anything. So, anything you'd like constructive criticism on, just send it over. :D

**loVsicK: **I think Draco and Harry were made for each other too, that's why I'm writing this story! lol I'm sorry about the het in the next chapter, it's pretty much unavoidable. But you can avoid it, if you want to. I won't be mad. But the nature of this story is such that it reflects real life, I think more so than some of my favourite HarryDraco stories. Not that those stories aren't great, of course, but life and love don't come in a neat little package. In fact, as I'm sure we all know, it's all rather confusing, and every day we could change our minds. I'm not say that most of the other stories don't address this, but I feel that the focus of their story is usually a little different than mine, if that makes sense. And there's usually a magical element to their love. No such thing here. No potions, spells, wayward powers springing up…just normal life, with all its insecurities and problems, with the added factor of just _who_ these people are, _how_ they've always interacted with each other, and _what_ has happened to them in their lives making it so much different than let's say, a muggles. ; ) I hope I didn't confuse you there. It's really hard for me to describe how I'm thinking about this story without giving things away, or making it sound like I'm pulling stuff out of my ass. lol Thanks for the review, I hope you keep reading, and keep reviewing.

**MyOriginalIntent:** -blushes- Why, thank you! I really don't think it deserves _that_ many reviews, but I'm happy at least someone thinks so (maybe you should convince everyone else? lol). I hope this chapter cleared up a bit of Raven's motivations. She _is_ a Harry-stalker, love. She's gotta do something to stir up trouble. It's been much too quiet lately, for her, I think. ;D I'm ecstatic that you love everyone, and at least tolerate Raven. –grin- Thank you SO much for your lovely compliment and review. I can't wait 'til next time!


	14. The Way Things Are Supposed To Be

**Update: 05.30.05 – Stupid ffnet wouldn't let me login! So this was even more delayed…sorry.**

**Chapter Notes: **First of all, let me thank you all for being so patient in waiting for this chapter. It's been a little over a month, and for that, I am sorry. Things in Real Life have been a bit harrowing (and to be completely honest, I had a horrible panic attack/breakdown at work the other night), and this chapter also has a lot of things happening. I had problems writing it, not to mention work and homework to work on as well, so right now, I'm just happy it's finally done!

In relation to that, I need to profusely thank my betas, **IcyAurora8**, **misterjones**, and **MachiavellianOrange**. They not only had to deal with my constant questions and half-finished problems, but they had to beta a chapter that was fifty-four pages long! That's right! This is by FAR the longest chapter yet, over twice as long as usual. **54** pages!

So, with that, I'll leave you to enjoy it!

* * *

**WARNING: **

**The second passage is considered 'M', 'R', or 'Hard-R' in relation to rating. You have been warned. It involves heterosexual interactions, but not sex. There **_are_** some important things said, particularly in the beginning and end, but it is not absolutely **_vital_** to the story to read. I would NOT recommend skipping the dialogue, so do so at your own risk. I will tolerate NO FLAMES about this subject. As mentioned before, heterosexuality is a rather heavy fact of life, and things between certain characters are bound to happen as is logical, and in due time. **

**Thank you.

* * *

**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter XIV – The Way Things Are Supposed to Be

* * *

**

Skin against skin. Smooth. Rough. Sweat and oil. Saccharine and bitter. Harsh breathing and sweet words.

Flashes of memory. Images and sounds imprinted of the last few hours, now passed by again in slumber.

Frustration. Confusion. _Why must I think of him with I'm with you?_

_I won't lie; this whole thing was probably a horrible idea. But we're in too deep. We need to finish it. But if you really don't want to, we should end it; now._

_Is this really what he needs?_

_Even if it's not, he wants it. Let us be the ones to fulfil his every desire._

_I'm scared to admit that I don't want it any other way._

The images and sounds fade, to be replaced only by feelings. Emotions, hard and raw. Fear. Uncontrollable. One is gone. Completely—they are no more. Life and soul…sucked out and whisked away to the unknown. Two left—together in love and pain yet forever alone. Complete—although the pain will forever stay. For two halves do not always make a whole.

Despair. Loathing. Fear. Hate. Confusion. Anger.

Love.

All welling up, bubbling over, too full. The only physical sensations are that of cold tears and a white-hot clenching pain in the chest.

But who?

Who will be the one to go?

* * *

Raven jolted awake, gasping for air. She lay there, staring at the moon-coloured ceiling with tears and wide eyes, trying to calm her breathing and her heart. 

"Raven?" came a sleepy voice next to her. "Raven, love, what's wrong?"

She shivered as Draco's hot skin came in contact with the cold sweat on her body; his arms wrapped around her as he pulled her against him. Shaking her head, Raven whispered, "Dreams…I've been having horrible dreams…"

Draco held the girl closer and smoothed back her damp hair. He loved moments like this; even though Raven was scared, it was like the vulnerable side that only he got to really see. Everyone else saw the indifferent conniving bitch, but this was his. His alone. "Shh…it's alright, love. It's alright…"

"No! It's not alright! D-Draco, these dreams—they're not normal. The ending is always the same, every time."

"Well…do you want to talk about it? What do you remember?"

Raven buried her face in his shoulder. "It's hard to explain…I can't see anything—its just feelings. Just these horrible, painful feelings. Like…like I'm going to lose someone I love, that I already have…but it's not that either," she sighed in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it. I feel the feelings as if they were my own, and they're strong, scarily strong, like how I felt when I thought I was going to lose you. But in the dreams, I know that they're not mine. The feelings. Like I'm feeling for someone else. Does that make sense?"

Draco truly thought that it didn't, at least, not to him, but he wasn't about to tell Raven that. "Of course, love." He paused in thought for a moment. "Do you think that perhaps they may be prophetic?"

Raven blew air through her lips. "I don't know. You'd think so, huh, because they're reoccurring."

"Maybe."

"Since when did you believe in prophecy, Draco?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't, really. But you never know."

"Not even the prophecy regarding Harry? The one Dumbledore told us about?"

Draco was quiet for a moment before he replied, "That's the only one."

"Well, if I haven't shown prophetic tendencies until now, then I'm probably not a seer."

"Don't discount your dreams, Raven. You may not be a seer, but you never know if some dead arsehole is trying to make you one."

Raven furrowed her brow at the cryptic comment. "I'm not discounting my dreams, Draco. They're too…too powerful to do that. I just want to know what they mean."

"We'll look it up in the library, then."

"Okay." Raven breathed in Draco's spicy scent and sighed, pulling him closer.

He rubbed a hand up and down her arm, and after a few minutes, asked, "You doing better?"

"Yeah. I'm glad I was with you tonight."

"Mmm. So am I, even though you refuse to put out," he playfully jabbed.

Raven slapped him lightly on the chest. "Hey! I explained to you why."

"Yeah, yeah. Victory and all that."

"_Draco_, it's not just that. Think about it; would it mean as much to you _or_ him if _we_ were sleeping together? Would you care as much? Would you try as hard? Would you even bother with Harry at all?" Draco grunted. "Besides, I never actually _said_ you had to sleep with Harry; I just said you had to seduce him."

Draco's eyes snapped completely open. "What? You…you…" A scowl formed on his lips and he pulled away to look into Raven's eyes. "Seducing _implies_ sex!"

"Maybe it does to you."

Draco gave Raven a look. "And it doesn't to you?"

"Oh, of course it does," she said flippantly. "But that doesn't mean it _has_ to. It could mean seducing him into bed, with out actually having sex with him, you know." She gave him a sly wink. "But it seems that he willingly brought _you_ into _his_ bed last night, by what you told me."

Draco uncharacteristically sputtered. "Forget that! _You_ implied sex when you made the bet!"

"You're right. I did. Because I wanted you to know how far I planned to go with both of you. How comfortable I wanted you two to be with each other. Although I did find it rather amusing that you didn't put up much of a fight." Giving him her own look she said, "Something you're not telling me, Dray?"

The blond narrowed his eyes. "Nothing that you haven't already implanted in my mind these last few weeks."

"And see? You're still not complaining. C'mon, admit it, Dray. You like Harry Potter," she sing-songed, lying back down and snuggling up to him.

Silver eyes turned upward. "He's a good guy, and he's nice to look at is all."

Raven giggled. "You're pretending you're in denial. How cute."

"I am _not_ cute. I'm a Malfoy for Merlinsakes. And I don't pretend anything."

"So you admit you're in denial, then?"

"Yes! No! I mean no. I'm not pretending to be in denial and I'm not in denial to begin with!"

"So you don't think of Potter, huh?" Raven teased, trailing her fingertips down his well-muscled torso.

"No, I don't."

"Obviously you don't remember earlier this evening, do you?"

"What?"

"When I did this," and suddenly her hand was on him and he gasped in surprise. "Earlier you became frustrated," Raven moved her thumb slightly, "when you kept thinking about Harry instead of me. Remember? You seem to be contradicting yourself, Drake."

Draco gasped again, arching into her touch as she changed grip. "I…I…" He found himself suddenly incoherent as he lost himself within the physical sensations of the moment.

"Admit it, Dray. You want _it._ With _him_," she whispered into his ear, licking softly at the lobe.

Draco moaned loudly and suddenly pushed her away so he could sit on top of her, straddling her hips. Grabbing her one free hand and holding it above her head, he leaned forward and growled low in her ear, "_Yes._ I admit it. I want him. I want to fuck him into the goddamn wall." Pulling back, he saw an almost maniac glint in her green eyes.

"Mmm. Well, I only hope he reciprocates the gesture." Her lips and cheeks were flushed, and Draco took no more time as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, moving his hips against her renewed grasp. He used his free hand to roam over her side, caressing her curves and skin as she caressed him.

Pulling away from her mouth and gasping, he continued to rock his hips back and forth, his breath labouring harder with every thrust. Draco looked down into the green eyes below him, taking in her loving look and dishevelled dark hair, blending into his dark sheets. The lust in her eyes as she pleased him shot shock waves through his body, and he moaned loudly, exciting them both in passion driven desire.

As he continued to look at her, her face morphed into another, as similar as it was different. The shock of fantasising about Harry hit him again, as did his orgasm; his spunk hitting Raven's well-formed chest—the fantasy breaking once again, leaving overwhelming pleasure and a twinge of self-hate in his chest, which he quickly pushed away.

Coming down from his high, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips before moving down to lap up the mess he made. It was something he'd never done before, but something he wanted to try; something erotic and that would excite Raven as well. He finally released her arm and slipped his hand between her legs, causing her to gasp out. Expertly, he moved his tongue over her skin, suckling on her breasts and using his fingers in a most pleasurable way farther below.

He found that cum was definitely an acquired taste, but not altogether unpleasant. Mixed with the sweat and woodsy sweet smell of Raven's skin, not to mention the eroticism of such an act, Draco was having a hard time not getting carried away.

Raven buried her fingers in his silky hair, moving down to his shoulders and caressing the muscles there. Then Draco blew on the newly suckled skin, cooling it, causing her nipples to stand erect, and he took the opportunity to nip lightly at them, the young woman gasping beneath him as he did so.

"Draco…?" she asked breathlessly.

"Mmm, yeah?"

"Did you think about Harry again?"

Draco kissed her lips, cheek and neck. "Yes," he breathed harshly in her ear.

"Tell me."

There was a pause and then: "I think of your hot breath as his hot breath. Your smooth skin as his smooth skin. Your moans and gasps as his; your smell as his; your eyes, your hair. You two become one, and _fuck, _I can't control myself, I want you both so fucking much."

Just as Draco's voice faded, his fingers brushed over Raven's pleasure centre one more time, and her thighs clenched around his probing hand, a guttural scream letting loose from her throat.

Breathing hard, her head a heady haze from the high of orgasm, Raven closed her eyes in bliss. Once she caught her breath, she whispered, "Two in one night. I know it's not much, but I do believe we might spoil each other."

The blond chuckled, kissing her lips once again. "Mmm, I don't think so. We're insatiable, remember?" Draco moved off of her to lie at her side.

"Yeah, I remember." Raven wrapped an arm and leg around Draco's body, pulling the covers up that had fallen aside during their passions.

"I hope Potter can keep up with us," Draco said, pulling the girl closer as they settled back in for the night.

"Somehow, love, I don't think that'll be a problem. Twenty-three-year-old virgin, remember?"

"God, poor Potter. I'm surprised he hasn't fucked the first girl he's laid eyes on."

"You mean me, or you?"

"Hey!"

"Just stating the truth, you ponce. Besides, I do believe Harry's had quite a bit more on his mind, hm?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

"I'm always right. Now let's get some sleep. We've both got class in five hours."

Although Raven couldn't see it, Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, love."

"I love you, Dray," the girl murmured.

Draco patted the sleepy girl on the head, his gaze becoming distant as he lost himself in his thoughts. "I love you too," he whispered, a nearly untraceable note of uncertainty in his voice.

* * *

_1 October 2003_

_Raven's fallen asleep again. I was with her for a while, but I'm much too awake to pretend to sleep with her any longer. I have so many thoughts pooling in my head, I'm not even sure what I want to write down, I just feel like I need to. Too much in my head to stay still much longer._

_I just keep thinking about what's happened tonight, between Raven and I. I won't deny that it was great—oh no, it was fucking unbelievable. The most erotic and arousing thing I've ever done. Pansy was no fun at all—and much too quick to please. And the few girls I met during the war were good, but it was just sex—fuck, I can hardly remember their names. But Raven…she's not only completely and utterly sexy, but she has a strange wild streak in her that I didn't realise was there (at least in a sexual manner) until last night._

_And that's the problem. I couldn't stop thinking about Harry. And I hate myself for it. It makes me feel like I'm being a prick, because I can't keep my thoughts on the woman who's with me. But she doesn't mind! At least, it doesn't seem as though she minds…in fact, she even got off on me talking about him. It's…bizarre. I never thought I'd like what we did, let alone the fact that it was about Harry._

_Harry Potter! Fuck, I'm going insane. So I'm becoming friends with him, fine. I'll even admit to finding him slightly attractive. But how can I think about him when I have Raven? What has she put in my head? Do I even care? That's the horrible thing. Raven's started something, and I don't know what's fuelling it. Having Harry constantly in my thoughts almost seems like second nature now, although now it's for reasons entirely different than before. I didn't lie to Raven, I do want Harry. But it's purely sexual at this point. And he's really not a bad guy. But I'm his friend, and thinking thoughts like this is only making me confused. I thought I could keep the unbidden thoughts of him to my private time; wanking off to this weird combination of him and Raven in the shower nearly every day…Merlin they look too much alike. I've even fantasised about them being together, although now thinking about it logically, that's kind of gross. They're like twins or something, but only in their looks. God, not even that. All they share are green eyes, black hair, and a few freckles. And even all that's pretty different._

_Fuck. Half the time I want to scream and tear my hair out. Screw the bet, it's stupid and there's no point to it. I can't seduce Potter—he's got too much baggage, and I should just be happy with Raven, with what I have. But **fuck** if all these thoughts and images running around in my head aren't helping any. When I'm around him, it's actually not so bad—I think I'm too embarrassed (ME! Embarrassed!) about the whole thing and the fact that I'm actually having **feelings **towards him to do much more than maintain control and act as normal as possible. But when I'm alone, I feel more confused than ever—I really need to stop thinking about it and work on my school work, and spend more time with Raven. **They're** what's important right now. If I don't pass, I won't graduate, and then I can't get an apprenticeship and then my life will be ruined. Okay, so it won't really be ruined, but I don't fancy staying at the B.I. much longer. I've been here more than long enough to finish my last two years of school, I'm ready to get out of here and start my life. I'm **twenty-three** for Merlinsakes!_

_But Raven's adamant. And to be honest, I understand her reasons perfectly. That look on Harry's face last night when he saw to two of us together on the couch…it suddenly slapped me in the face what Raven was trying to say. Sure, Harry needs a friend, someone he can finally confide in, and I smugly admit that that's been me as of late, but…he's lonely too. I don't even think he realises it. What he's lonely for. When I saw that look on his face, it made me think that it must hurt him to see Raven and I together. Because he's never had that, as far as I know. I've never seen him with a girl (or guy for that matter), and it's not like he hasn't been around enough the past few years for me not to notice. Unless something happened during the war…some**one** happened that hurt him so badly, he can't bear to be with anyone else. What if that's what it is? What if Raven's wrong? Maybe me seeking him out is a bad idea. But probably so is him seeing me and Raven together all the time. I'll need to speak with her about that. And I need to speak to Harry about what's bothering him. Why he looked so lonely when he saw us last night._

_I just hope that I don't bring up old things that should remain buried._

_We had gotten so far the other night, when I slept over at Number One, and don't want him to close up on me. I want to know about it, dammit, I feel like I have a **right **to know. And…_

_And I need someone to confide in too. There. I admitted it. I need someone to talk to, and I've subconsciously chosen Harry, and he's not allowed to back out now. I won't let him, and it doesn't work that way._

_I've made my decision. I'll talk to Raven when she wakes up, and I'm talking to Harry again. Tonight.

* * *

_

"Oh Dennis, look at these. Am I doing something wrong? Why is it turning out so blurry?"

Dennis Creevey stepped up next to Raven, looking over her raised arm at the newly printed photo. The girl was eyeing it with confused distaste, although even with no colour and rather indistinct yet moving shapes, Dennis could still see that it was a picture of one of the nearby beaches. The small, tow-headed boy took the tongs out of Raven's hand, and squinted at it in the dim, red light. "It could be a lot of things, Raven. You could have moved the camera at the last second, or not focused it properly to begin with…"

"Well, how do I fix it?" she said with an air of impatience.

Though Dennis was still small in stature, his clear blue eyes pierced up into Raven's green ones with a scowl. "Raven, I can only help you so much. The only reason I've been able to show you the developing and printing process is because of books. Photography really wasn't my thing, it was Colin's."

Raven's brow flashed in a grimace. "I'm sorry, Dennis. I…I know you've been doing your best to help me learn this. Perhaps I should see if anyone else on campus could help. One of the teachers, maybe. There's a photography teacher right?" Dennis shrugged, and she took the photo back and hung it up to dry. "I just…get so impatient when I can't have what I want immediately, you know? Part of my Slytherin blood, I guess."

Dennis' eyes softened. "I understand. You're a Slytherin. You're spoiled."

Raven's eyes shot open in mock shock. "Hey! I resemble that remark," and they both chuckled.

"Well, if you don't want to go to anyone, I'd suggest buying a few books. Probably muggle ones, as the only ones I've been reading from are wizard's."

"Hmm…perhaps I should read both. So I know about both kinds." She sighed. "Well, I'm sure the rest of these are shot. No point in wasting good printing paper." She started gathering up her things while the few she did print were drying.

"Do you need me to go to London or somewhere with you to buy some books and muggle printing supplies?"

Raven shook her head. "No…I think I'm okay. I can ask Harry to come with me."

"Harry Potter?"

"Yeah. What other Harry is there around here?"

"Oh, no one, I guess. I just…you're friends with him?"

Raven nodded. "Hm-hmm. A little. I guess this will just be a chance to get to know him a little better."

"Malfoy doesn't mind?"

"Draco?"

"Yeah…I heard…well, I know you and Malfoy are friends, but I heard…"

"Heard what?"

"Well, that he…he and Harry were…um…"

"Yes…?" the girl started taking down the few photos that were finished drying.

"L-lovers."

Raven burst out laughing. Once she got a control of herself enough to speak she said, "And I'm assuming that came from Weasley, hm?"

"Well, maybe. Seamus too."

"Well, I can assure you that they're not. At least not to my knowledge. Draco's actually dating me, Dennis. He stayed too late over at Harry's two nights ago, and Harry offered to let him stay over. So you can rest your pretty little head over that one."

Dennis seemed to sag a bit in relief. "Oh. Okay."

"What, are you afraid Draco's going to hurt him?"

"Who, Harry? No…not really. I think he can take care of himself. I just…wouldn't know how to react if Harry was gay. With, no offence, _Malfoy_."

"None taken. But is being gay such a bad thing?" She asked not-so-innocently. She was testing the waters, reaching out tendrils of question to see just how Harry's closest might react to…well, assuming things would continue as planned.

"Er…no, I guess not. I just couldn't imagine Harry…" Dennis shrugged. "But then again, he's never really had a girlfriend…"

"Well, then maybe he is gay, or maybe he doesn't really want a girlfriend. He's got…a lot of…stuff going on, you know."

Dennis nodded seriously. "Yes. I know."

Raven packed away the last of her things. "Well, for now, cheer up. If Harry's gay, he's gay. Whatever he chooses to do in his private time is none of our business."

"You're right. I'll see you later, Raven."

"Thanks again, Dennis."

"Any time." And the blue eyes followed her willowy frame as she stepped into the roundabout chamber and vanished into the dark.

* * *

"Harry! Hey, Harry!" 

The man in question whirled around and greeted his Quidditch captain, Mikhail Chaikovsky, from across the courtyard. The air was heavy and crisp with precipitation, the grass and gravel still wet from the storm the night before. But the sun was just starting to peek out from the clouds, and hopefully it would stay that way. No one was ready for the next rainy winter.

"Hey, Mik. What's up?"

The dark-coloured, English-born Russian jogged to catch up with Harry. "Don't worry," he said a little breathlessly, "I'm not mad at you and Draco for skipping out on practise last night. We hardly got started before we had to quit."

"Oh." Harry averted his gaze for a second. _Practise…I totally forgot._ "Well, that's good. I'm still sorry though. Draco and I had an emergency to attend to, and we completely forgot."

"Really? Well, I hope everything's okay…"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Good. 'Cause practise is going to be a bit longer tonight, we really have a chance this year of being first instead of second, because you've been playing so much better this season…"

Harry blanched slightly, being reminded of some of his less-than-spectacular games the last few seasons was something he'd rather just leave behind. "Yeah…about that, Mik. I was wondering if Draco could take this game against ­­­the Widgeons on Saturday."

Mikhail's brow dropped. "Draco? Um…I don't know, Harry…I really don't think he's ready…"

"I do. He's gotten so much better now that he's back on his broom on a regular basis."

"But not as good as you."

Harry frowned. "I think he could be better than me if we'd just give him a chance to play. Keeping any player on back-up is enough to put a dent in their game. But Draco's been working really hard. I don't think it's fair to not let him play at some point this season."

"But Harry, we're playing ­­­the _Widgeons_, one of the toughest teams that's come out of Italy, and one of the hardest games we'll play this season. You know that. If we don't beat them, or we screw up again later in the season, we won't even have our usual chance at the playoffs. We can't afford to screw up this early in the season."

"I know," Harry sighed, running a hand through his unruly locks. "Well…maybe we should ask the team about it tonight, see what they think."

Mikhail huffed a little and said, "To be fair, yes. But if things still aren't looking good enough two days from now, I'll have to make an executive decision. I really don't like the fact that you've been slacking on your own practise to help Malfoy catch up on his. You need to keep on top of your game, Harry. It's not your fault that Draco refused to come to practise, and therefore effed up his own game, and hindering our own scrimmage practises. You don't need to fix it for him. It should be his job."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I know that, Mikhail. I'm not trying to fix it. I'm just trying to get him back into doing something he likes doing."

"Even so. Look, I have a class to get to. We'll talk about this at practise. I'll see you later, Harry." Mikhail turned away and walked towards the Spell Weaver building.

"Later, Mik."

Harry frowned. That conversation left him feeling distinctly more disgruntled than he already had been. _I shouldn't have said anything to Draco. Now I've got his hopes up._ Harry continued to walk to the Medi-Arts building. _Fuck. Looks like regardless the weather, this is going to be another tough day.

* * *

_

"Hmm…"

"What?"

"Do you mind…if I steal Harry from you on Sunday?"

Draco cast a quick sideways glance at his girlfriend, who was gazing at the back of the aforementioned Gryffindor's messy head, before fleetingly grazing his own look at Harry and settling to the droning teacher up front.

"I don't care," he muttered, copying down some more information from the chalkboard.

"You sure? I know you guys have been getting rather close lately," Raven said suggestively.

Draco frowned. "Define 'close'."

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Harrell, is there anything I can help you with?" the aged Professor Tredgewater asked. There were a few snickers of amusement from the class.

Draco's posture immediately straightened. "No, Professor. I was just helping Raven. She didn't quite understand what you were writing about on the board." He missed the slightly scathing look from his right.

Professor Tredgewater squinted his beady eyes at them, and his face gained more wrinkles, if possible. "Miss Harrell, if you have questions, please address everyone. There may be others who have questions similar to yours."

"Yes, sir." Another snicker.

"Now, if we can continue on the subject of transfiguration. When transfiguring a complex object into a non-complex object, i.e., animate to inanimate…"

As the professor turned back to the intricate drawings on the chalkboard, Raven leaned forward again and whispered, "So it's okay? I don't want you getting jealous or anything."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's fine. Besides, who am I supposed to be jealous of here? You or Potter?"

"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Harrell! Another question already?" Professor Tredgewater's beady eyes were on them again, and the class was trying to hold back giggles, but weren't really succeeding. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed Harry and Weasley looking back at them with the rest of the class.

"Er…no, Professor," Raven answered quickly.

"Then please keep your private conversations until after class time. I am trying to teach you N.E.W.T. material here, and you are disrupting the class. If you don't want to _finally_ graduate, fine. But some people here do. Now pay attention or remove your bodies from the class." The class was now laughing as silently as they could at their classmates' grief.

"Yes, sir. We'll be quiet," Draco said slowly, irritation and subtle anger colouring his cheeks pink. _How _dare_ he assume that I'm treating my graduation lightly! _He pursed his lips and glared at Raven through his peripheral vision.

As Tredgewater turned back around for the second time, Draco caught Ron shaking his head with smirk, and the amused grin Harry was shooting the devious pair. Grabbing a piece of parchment, Raven scribbled something down quickly and slid it over to Draco.

Casting her a suffering look, he glanced down.

_He has a beautiful smile, don't you think, love?_

Draco glanced back up at the person in question, just as he turned away to continue taking notes. Taking his own quill, Draco scribbled back a reply.

_Indeed he does, Raven, indeed he does._

Raven seemed satisfied with his reply, and sat back, idly doodling notes and copying the complex patterns from the board. Draco watched her profile for a moment, before returning his eyes to the teacher, although his attention was back on the journal entry he had written early that morning.

_Indeed…

* * *

_

There were a few fluffy clouds in the sunny sky when the B.I. Quidditch team set out for practise that afternoon.

Mikhail stood in front of his team (and back-up group) with an air of cool command, easily capturing the attention of the other players.

"Okay you guys, we're playing the Italians on Saturday, and I need the strongest players in the air. All of you," he cast a meaningful look at the junior varsity, "have been doing really well in our mixed practises, and I want to give all of you a fair chance to get up into the sky at a real game, for those who haven't yet." His eyes rested on Harry for a moment, and the jade-eyed man caught on to how Mikhail was going to handle his earlier question. "So I want you all to practise your hardest today, and I'll make final line-up decisions by the end of practise, and we'll spend the next two days polishing up our moves, and then we'll cream those Italians on Saturday!"

There were a few cheers and "Yes, Captain!"s while Harry caught Draco's eye across the circle. Draco threw a smirk back to him and mounted his broom, kicking off into the air, and leaving the rest of the team to follow behind him.

Once they were all up in the air, Mikhail shouted for a few of the chasers and beaters to mix themselves up a bit. "Alright!" Looking down at Meghan McCormick, the team's manager, he shouted, "Let the balls fly, Meg!"

Then the balls were out, and the scrimmage was in play. After a few moments, Draco sidled up next to Harry and said out of the corner of his mouth, his piercing grey eyes still searching for the Snitch, "Have a bit of a chat with the captain, Potter?"

"Perhaps," was Harry's reply.

Draco finally cast him a side-ways glance. Turning his eyes away he said, "Either you're getting sick of Quidditch, or that storm rattled your brains."

"Maybe I'm just tired of being in the spotlight."

Draco turned fully to Harry. "Is that really true, Harry?"

Harry returned the gaze. "What do you think, Draco?"

They were silent a moment, just gazing at each other. "I'm not sure," Draco finally said.

Harry shrugged. "I just want you to have a fair shot is all. We're about ready to graduate, and I've already had a few offers for going pro. You should have that chance too."

Draco smirked. "You just want to keep playing against me, don't you, Potter? You just can't play Quidditch unless you're playing against me."

Harry smirked as well. "You're a conceited ass, Malfoy." Harry manoeuvred his broom a little closer, to say boldly and unexpectedly in Draco's ear, "But you're right. My skills are a waste with out you to try them on." And then suddenly, the dark-haired man was gone, speeding off in the other direction, the Snitch obviously in his sights.

Draco cursed, and took off after him. He didn't have time to ponder the double meaning of Harry's words. Did Harry even realise what the other meaning was? Or was he just trying to distract Draco? _Why, what a sneaky, Slytherin-ish thing to do…_

The men danced through the air, weaving in and out of other players, circling around posts and each other, each trying to gain the upper hand. Harry was grinning from ear to ear, and chanced a quick glance at his adversary, only to see a rather determined and devilish smirk on the other man's pale face.

When Harry glanced back at the Snitch, it was gone.

Apparently, Draco lost sight of it too, and the two young men gradually slowed down to a hover on the outskirts of mid-field.

"Dammit, Potter, you distracted me."

"_I_ distracted _you_? What are you on about, Malfoy? _You_ distracted _me._"

Draco tossed his head, and his corn-silk hair glimmered slightly in the sun. "It's not _my_ fault if you can't keep your eyes off my pale good looks and my debonair charm," he smirked.

Harry smirked back. "You wish, you self-absorbed ponce." But keeping half an eye on the admittedly pale young man, Harry had to agree; there was a sort of…charm about Draco Malfoy. Although where it was coming from, Harry had no idea. The man was positively one of the biggest arseholes Harry had ever come across. _Yet here he is, my friend…_ Harry thought. _Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?_

The two men hovered for another moment, before Draco suddenly took off again, in pursuit of the ever-elusive Snitch. Harry took off after him, gaining inches with every half-second. Neither man let their gazes wander this time, keeping sharp emerald and diamond eyes on the little ball of gold in front of them.

Neck and neck, scant millimetres from each other's sides, both Harry and Draco reached out for the Snitch, their gloved hands bumping and their fingers scrabbling for some purchase on the slippery metal. Harry felt one of the fluttery wings between his fingers, his nails scraping on the body, knowing that Draco also felt the Snitch on his own skin, and then the ball was gone, the body encased in leather, and the flickering wings poking out between long, pale fingers.

Draco Malfoy had finally caught the Snitch.

He had, after eleven years, beat Harry Potter in a fair game of Quidditch.

Wow.

Draco let out an ecstatic whoop of surprise and laughed shortly in a maniacal way. Harry slowed his broom down, a huge grin on his face, the elation of seeing his new-found friend finally do something he had always knew Draco had wanted to do, humming through his core. How could he feel the disappointment of loss when Draco looked so happy?

Draco did a little loop and stopped to a hover as well, as the rest of the team stopped in mid-play and quickly made their way over.

"Malfoy!" Mikhail called, a surprised grin on his face. Draco looked over, his smile faltering slightly, but his eyes remained a bright silvery glow.

"Yeah, Captain?"

"That wasn't too bad. Nice finger work."

Draco blinked. "Thank you."

Mikhail nodded. "Alright. Let's start over again. Morrison, MacFarlane, switch-up with Smith and Strader, and Jamison, I want you to play forward, and I'll play your left-man, okay? Good. Let's go again!"

Draco let the Snitch go, flashing a triumphant smile in Harry's direction which Harry returned.

"That was pretty brilliant, Draco. Ready to play again?"

"Ready to lose again?" Draco shot back, the smile still on his face.

"Only if you're ready to win."

With a laugh, Draco sailed back into the air above the rest of his team. "I've never been more ready in my life, Potter."

"I'm glad," Harry replied, sailing up across from him.

They shared a knowing smile, and time almost seemed to stop for them in that simple minute of understanding. The breeze was blowing softly, and the setting sun was casting purple shadows and creating fiery orange highlights. Harry noted the subtleties in the silvery irises of Draco's eyes, the way the light played, and through the fire the sunset reflected, there burned a great silvery fire all its own; cool and calm and passionate, all at the same time. Draco watched, enraptured, as the breeze tossed Harry's already unruly hair around, the thick, black locks screaming out to be touched, teasing each other and Draco with their movement. But with a whistle from Meghan, they were a sudden flurry of motion, continuing with their practise as nothing had just occurred, yet both knowing that something indeed had.

And Harry, though thick and naïve as he sometimes was, knew with the utmost certainty that his life was and had always been intertwined with Draco's, and Draco's with his. And at one time in his life, Harry wouldn't have liked nothing better than to get rid of the annoyance of Draco's presence in his life, but now, Harry realised, he didn't want it any other way.

* * *

After four more scrimmages were run, and Draco caught the Snitch two more times, the team waited on the field while Mikhail and Meghan held a conference over what players would be best for the upcoming match. 

Draco and Harry were standing off to the side, not speaking but keeping each other's steady gaze. They could almost read what the other was thinking; _will it be you or I?_

Ron separated himself from the main group, and swaggered over to his best mate and…him. The other one. Ron wasn't sure what to refer to him as, other than 'ferret face', but he knew that Harry wouldn't particularly take kindly to that choice of words. So keeping his face straight, Ron approached Harry and spoke to break him out of his rather strange-looking staring contest with Malfoy.

"Hey, Harry, are you busy after practise?"

Harry blinked and turned his head slowly to finally look at Ron. "I…don't think so. Just homework. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to get a butterbeer at Celestine's."

Harry grinned. "Sure, that'd be great."

"What about our study session, Harry?" Draco cut in, an eyebrow raised and a frown curling the corners of his mouth down.

Harry looked rather startled. "Oh shit, I totally forgot."

"Study session?" Ron asked, a frown marring his features as well.

"Yeah, Draco's going to help me with my Potions notes—they're a mess."

Ron deflated slightly. "Well, if you already have plans…"

"No!" Harry called out, holding out a hand to stop Ron from walking away. "How about…how about we _all_ go out for a butterbeer and Draco can help me with my notes afterwards," Harry amended, then turned to Draco. "Is that all right, Draco? I mean…are you up for a butterbeer? I don't want to take you away from your homework…"

Draco looked up at Ron, and met the man's uninviting gaze with one of his own. It was almost as if Ron was challenging Draco to say no. To back down and prove who was the better friend.

"No…" Draco said. "That's fine." He looked back to Harry and smiled a little, but it was slightly tight. "I'll go with you and Weasley to Celestine's. It'll be nice after today's long practise. Then we can go back to my room and study."

Harry smiled. "Great!"

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Mikhail's call averted everyone's attention to the edge of the field.

Captain and team met halfway, everyone standing in rapt attention, and Mikhail lifted his chin slightly in a show of leadership. Meghan stood slightly behind and to the left of him, gazing at the team with light eyes and a small smile.

"Okay, everyone," Mikhail said in a commanding tone, "after much discussion between Meghan and I, the team for the upcoming match is as follows: Keeper—Weasley; Chasers—Morrison, Strader, and I; Beaters—Bole and Jackson; and Seeker—Potter. Everyone back here tomorrow."

There was a tension released in the team as they nodded their assent and broke up to go to the locker rooms. Draco had to admire Chaikovsky for not hesitating in announcing the Seeker; it would have seemed like he was hesitant as to his appointment, and Draco felt that he made the right choice.

Harry, however, seemed to think otherwise.

There was still tension in the dark-haired man standing next to him, and Draco kept an eye on Harry as he breathed in deeply and let it out slowly.

"Harry, you alright, mate?" Ron asked from his other side.

Glaring at the middle space, Harry answered, "No, not particularly."

"You aren't mad about the line-up are you?"

Walking towards the locker rooms, leaving his two friends to catch up, Harry replied, "Yes, I am, Ron. It's like Draco's three wins against me mean nothing."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, it _does _mean something, but Mikhail probably doesn't want to throw away this very important game against the Widgeons just because Malfoy's finally beaten you. You have three times as much experience than him with the team, _and_ you've played the Widgeons before. You know their strategies better."

Harry stopped and looked up at his best friend. "Apologise, Ron."

"What?"

"Apologise to Draco. You're talking about him like he's not standing right next to you."

"Potter, I hardly need you to stand up for me." Draco intoned from behind him.

"That's not the point."

Ron rolled his eyes, willing to be nice to Malfoy to pacify Harry. "Look, I meant no offence, Malfoy. I was just stating facts."

"And surprisingly, I take no offence, Weasley. I happen to agree with you, as much as it pains me to admit."

Harry turned at stared at Draco with confused eyes. "You-you're not mad? I mean, don't you want to play?"

"Sure I do, Harry, but Weasley's right. I don't know the Widgeons all that well. I've only seen them in action, but never played against them. If this game is oh-so-important, then we shouldn't waste it. I think Chaikovsky made the right choice."

Harry looked at the other men as if the world had just been turned upside down. "You're both mental," he said, shaking his head and turning to walk away again.

Looking at each other with raised eyebrows and a silent temporary truce, Ron and Draco followed him.

"I think you're the one that's mental, Potter." When Harry frowned at him, Draco said, "There's nothing to be done for it now. Just accept it, and play like you always do, and I'll just try for next time. Does that make your soppy Gryffindor morality happy?"

Ron snorted and Harry let a smirk creep up on the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"Good. Now I'm going to go home and shower, and I'll meet you at Celestine's in an hour." And with that, Draco turned away and headed back towards the B.I.

Ron watched the blond go. "An hour? That poncy git needs an _hour_?"

Harry just shrugged, continuing on. "I think we'll need to get used to it. You've seen how good he always looks. Takes time I s'pose."

"Used to it? Good looking? Harry, have you lost your mind?" Ron asked, incredulous, as he stopped at his locker and started to de-robe.

Harry chuckled and smiled wryly, as if at an inward joke. "Sometimes, Ron, I really think so." Then he looked up and smiled at his friend. "But I'm not so sure I care anymore." Harry turned away and grabbed a towel, moving into the showering area to finish getting undressed.

Rom watched him walk away, wondering what on Earth was happening with his best friend, and just how involved Draco Malfoy was. Because it was obvious, even if it wasn't to Harry, that his best friend had become far too comfortable with the ex-Slytherin in such a short period of time; much more close than he and Ron had ever been, and they had known each other and been best mates for twelve years. What was it that Malfoy was doing that Ron wasn't doing or hadn't ever done?

Ron frowned, feeling more and more threatened by this sudden intrusion, but not knowing how to stop it. Harry seemed much more happy, and Ron had grown enough during the years to realise that no matter where it came from, happiness was a rare commodity in Harry's life, and he couldn't bear to steal that from the jade-eyed man. Harry trusted Malfoy, and Ron had to begrudgingly admit that Harry was right—Malfoy had shown no signs of wayward activity in the past few years. Other than the occasional snide comment and cold look, Malfoy had been somewhat…civil.

And now he was becoming good friends with Harry.

Ron sighed. It would take some getting used to, but Ron supposed that he could bear it. That didn't mean that he had to like the guy, though. _And he's _not_ coming to my wedding_, he thought, scowling.Striding into the showering area, Ron took the nearest open stall and started to wash, hoping the hot water would clear his jumbled and slightly troubled thoughts.

* * *

"_Saint Helga of Hurddlemere,_ where _is_ he? We're going to be done with our butterbeers before he even shows up!" There was a long drag of bitter-sweetness, and then a slam of a heavy glass bottle on solid wood. 

A roll of eyes in response, and a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know you cared."

"I don't. But the arsehole could at _least_ be on time."

"Well, I'm sorry if Blaise's Charms grade is a slight bit more important than spending time with _you,_ Weasel."

Harry and Ron both turned on their stools, looking back at Draco, who stood a few feet behind them, his arms across his chest. "Draco…" Harry warned.

Draco rolled his eyes, but acquiesced to Harry's request. "Okay. _Weasley_." Draco dropped his arms and moved to sit on the other side of Harry, raising a hand to the barkeep to order his drink.

Celestine sauntered over and leaned on the bar towards his newest and most favoured patron. "Now, what can I get for you this evening, Draco?"

Draco nodded to Harry. "I'll have what he's having."

Celestine raised a fine black eyebrow. "Not your usual for the bar tonight?"

Draco shook his head. "Nah. Got a bit of studying to do later, with Potter here."

Celestine nodded, as twinkle glittering in his blue eyes. "Made it past your differences I see."

Ron cut in. "How do you know?"

Celestine turned his head and gave Ron an appraising look, with a beguiled smile plastered on his lips. "Word travels fast in a small place like Rookwood." The man reached below the counter and brought up four bottles of butterbeer, opening one for Draco. "The second round's on the house, gentlemen." And with a wink at Draco and a nod at the other two men, Celestine left them to their own, disappearing into the back of the café.

Ron leaned forward and addressed Draco from the other side of Harry. "Do you always get treated this well here, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged and took a swig from his first bottle. "It pays to know the right people, Weasley."

Ron wasn't sure how to take that comment, as it seemed to have an underlying current of dark activity behind it. He opened his mouth to say something, but caught a hard look from Harry, and frowned, closing his mouth and turning to his bottle to keep it occupied for a bit longer.

Harry turned to Draco. "So, Draco, I never got to properly congratulate you on your three wins against me this afternoon."

"'Twas nothing, Harry," Draco winked, grinning at Harry, who chuckled and shook his head at the blonde's audacity.

There was an unintelligible grumble from Harry's right.

Harry sighed a little, turning to his bottle and taking a huge swig of the amber liquid. Draco, sensing the tension from the red-haired man, opted to break the ice.

"So, Weasley, how're the wedding plans coming?"

Ron immediately perked up, but still cast a suspicious look in Draco's direction out of the corner of his eye. "They're coming, I suppose," he answered vaguely, finishing off his current bottle, and making a grab for his next one.

Harry jumped into the conversation. "Do you need any help with anything, Ron? Want me to plan the stag party?"

Draco and Ron both looked sharply at Harry in confusion. "The what?" Ron said.

Harry's eyes darted back and forth in confusion. "The stag party…the bachelor's party…you _know_…?" he trailed off; looking and feeling more and more uncomfortable with the confused looks the other men were sending his way as the seconds passed by.

Draco said, "No, Harry, we haven't a clue what you're on about."

Harry blushed and stuttered. "Sorry, I just thought…you guys would know, but I guess things are different in the Wizarding World in regards to weddings."

Draco scoffed. "I would sure hope so."

Harry rolled his eyes and Ron asked, "So tell us, what is this…bachelor's party?"

"Well," Harry started, "basically, in the Muggle world, when two people get married, each person has a big party to kind of celebrate their last night as an unmarried person—a bachelor—and generally, there's lots of alcohol and strippers and rowdiness involved."

Draco and Ron raised their eyebrows.

"Alcohol?" Ron asked, some of his confusion melting away.

"Strippers?" asked Draco, a slightly demonic grin replacing the puzzlement. "You mean…people who take their clothes off in front of you?"

Harry grinned. "Yep."

Ron thought for a second before saying, "So, both people have a party like this?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. The girls have a bachelorette party."

Ron's look darkened slightly. "And they have alcohol and strippers too, I bet."

Harry laughed. "Yes, they do, but it's all up to whoever plans the party—meaning the best man and the maid of honour."

"Hmm…" Ron mused to himself. "Well," he finally said, "it sounds interesting…but I'm not sure if I want Hermione around other naked men…"

"Oh, come off it, Weasley," Draco said. "If you're going to do it, Granger should get the same opportunity. Besides, knowing her, she'll probably just get a party in the shape of a book club."

"Shove it, Malfoy," Ron retorted.

"He does have a point, though, Ron," Harry put in. "Amongst the shadow of insult," he finished, giving a look to Draco, which the blond pointedly ignored.

"So?" Ron said. "It doesn't mean he has to point it out."

Harry sighed. "You're impossible, Ron Weasley."

"I agree," Draco said. "I don't know what Granger sees in you."

"Draco, be nice."

"Believe me, Harry, I am."

Ron huffed a little, but said, "Okay, fine. If you want to plan a bachelor's party or whatever for me, Harry, you're welcome to. I guess I'll just have to tell Ginny about it as well."

"I was wondering who Granger picked to be the maid of honour," Draco said, finishing off his first bottle, and moving on to the next.

"Yeah, she and Ginny and Parvati became pretty close during the war…especially after Lavender and Padma were…killed." Harry said, feeling very uncomfortable and stupid for bringing up the one subject he always wanted to avoid.

The three young men were silent for a moment, sharing an unspoken tribute to two of their classmates who had perished during the war.

"How…" Draco started, feeling uncomfortable to be asking so casually about someone he'd never paid any mind to before, "how is Patil? Wasn't Brown her best friend?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "Yeah, she was. Parvati's…better than she has been, I guess. But some people hide their pain better than others, Draco. You should know that," Harry finished, giving his new friend a serious look.

"You and I better than anyone, Potter."

Ron suddenly felt a loss of his best friend, in a way that he hadn't felt before. It was obvious that Harry and Malfoy were talking about something that they had already talked about in a previous conversation, and Ron only knew what they were speaking of because of the previous conversations he and Hermione had had about Harry. Harry was sharing things with Malfoy, but not with him. The fucking injustice of it all. Not to mention the absolute absurdity of the whole bloody situation.

Finishing off his second bottle, Ron stood, and placed a few coins onto the counter. "I'm gonna go."

Harry looked up in surprise. "Right, Ron?"

Ron didn't meet his eyes. "No, but there's not much I seem to be able to do about it. I'll see you tomorrow." And he walked past them and out the door.

"What…?" Harry breathed, feeling very confused.

Thinking quickly, Draco came to the likely reason for Ron's abrupt departure. Getting up, he threw over his shoulder as he followed Ron out, "Stay here. Let me talk to him. I think I know what's wrong."

Harry's protest died on his lips, as Draco was already out the door. Groaning, he tilted his head back in frustration. _I have a bad feeling about this…

* * *

_

"Weasley!"

"What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?"

"To talk to you about Harry."

"It was a rhetorical question, asshole. Leave me the fuck alone."

Draco grabbed Ron's upper arm and forced the larger man to stop and face him. "Stop being such a whiny little bitch, Weasley. I know you don't give a fuck about me, but you might want to think about Harry instead of yourself for once."

Ron wrenched his arm out of Draco's grip and pushed the smaller man away. "What the fuck do you know, Malfoy?" he exploded. "I've done nothing but be Harry's best mate—for _twelve fucking years_ I've watched as he's suffered, and nearly gotten killed, and afterwards, nothing I could do or say ever opened him up to me. And then suddenly, out of the mother _fucking_ blue, you come swaggering in and open him up like a book! So fuck you, Malfoy. Fuck you and your righteous indignation about how Harry feels and who I should think about. Because unlike you, I actually give a fuck about Harry, and have for _twelve_ years, and not once, _not_ _once_ since the war, has he _ever_ come to me to talk about it. You're right, I do have a problem with you, but it's beyond you being a git, or sleeping in Harry's bed—it's about you waltzing into his life all of a sudden and taking the rights I've always had as his best friend. Taking them away and not caring whether or not _I_ care about you becoming a part of Harry's life." Ron suddenly ran out of steam, and he stood there, glaring down at Draco, breathing heavily. "Just…fuck you, Malfoy." And Ron turned, making to walk away, but Draco was suddenly in his path.

"Don't you go making judgements about me, Weasley," Draco hissed. "I _do_ care about Harry, hard as it may seem for you to accept. I'll even admit that I hadn't at first, but I do now. I can't help it if you see me as a threat, but you don't seem to realise something very important, Weasley—that you _do_ have twelve years of friendship with him, and that's something I'll never have. I'm not sure _why_ he's 'opened up' to me as you put it, but he has, and there's nothing I can do to change that. And because of that, I've learned something about him over these past few weeks that he probably doesn't even know about himself. What Harry needs right now is more than just friendship, Weasley. What Harry needs, is more than you can give as his best mate. Do you understand?" Draco stared straight into Ron's blue eyes, and tried to will the stubborn man to understand what he meant with his grey gaze.

Ron just glared at Draco, not quite sure what to say. But a strange thought was forming in his mind, and that vague thought was coalescing into something that Ron knew immediately that he _did not_ want to think about. In fact, he quickly shut down his brain as much as he could, just to stop the thought from bearing fruit and becoming true. But thoughts of this nature could not be dissuaded, and the realisation of it hit him and his mind reeled. A little (or rather big) ball of tension settled its self in Ron's stomach, and it made his heart race, and his stomach roil. He didn't want to ask, he really didn't, but he just _had_ to know…was Malfoy talking about…?

"What exactly do you mean, Malfoy?" Ron asked in as even a voice as his tightened throat could manage.

Draco stood for a minute, looking at Ron's face, but his gaze started focusing elsewhere, on the middle distance. When his eyes finally focused, and he opened his mouth to reply, Ron tensed in anticipation of the answer, but Draco's gaze suddenly averted to somewhere past Ron's shoulder, and he said in a patronising tone, "Harry, I told you to wait inside…"

Ron whirled around to see his best friend approaching them from the direction of Celestine's. "I just had to make sure you two weren't killing each other," Harry answered, looking back and forth between them with trepidation.

"Not yet," Ron muttered under his breath.

Draco cast him a short look but said to Harry, "No…but I _was _thinking that that would be the only way to get through Weasley's thick skull."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Harry stopped a few paces from the men, crossing his arms over his chest and looking very much _not_ amused. "Are you guys fighting about me again?"

"What do you think, Harry?" Draco said tiredly.

Harry sighed and let his arms drop to his sides. "You guys, this has got to stop. Ron, you're just going to have to accept that Draco is one of my friends now. And Draco, Ron is one of my oldest friends, and my best mate. I don't expect you to like each other, but can you at least try being civil?"

Ron almost growled and glared at Malfoy. "I refuse to be civil to someone who thinks they're better than everyone else."

"Ron!"

But Draco held up a hand. "No, Harry. It's fine." Turning back to Ron, he said, "I'm sorry you think I'm taking away your rights as Harry's best mate, because I'm really not trying to. Just think about what I said, Weasley. Things aren't always so black and white." And with that, Draco turned and walked quickly away.

"Draco!" Harry called, running after him.

Ron watched his best friend go to Malfoy, and his heart sunk. _Harry…what is it you need? What is it you need that Malfoy can give you? Certainly not _that. Ron grimaced as he watched Harry and Malfoy talk in quiet tones just out of earshot. _And Malfoy actually said he's sorry. Is he lying? _Ron felt tears of bitterness and regret prick at the corner of his eyes. Pursing his lips together, he turned away from the sight in front of him. He couldn't watch as Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulder, just like Ron used to do to him. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, and tried his hardest to understand what was going on.

_Okay…so Harry and Malfoy are friends…I _guess _I can accept that. Malfoy said he's sorry for unintentionally taking Harry away…_that_ I can only accept if I believe that it was unintentional. That this isn't all just some elaborate plot. So, perhaps…_

Ron quickly thought about all the evidence laid out in front of him.

Harry said that Malfoy had changed. The evidence? That Malfoy did indeed help the muggles after the war; Ron did remember that. Malfoy also hadn't really caused any trouble since they all started school again. Although at first, he complained a lot and generally acted rather rudely, but that did seem to die down without Ron really realising it until now.

And Harry noticed a change in him. And Ron really couldn't argue against that. He felt defeated, like he was fighting a battle he knew he had already lost, and he really didn't want to admit that he had been wrong. Even with Harry's depression, and apparent loneliness, the thought that the man could be so wrong about Malfoy and be so blind didn't really pan out. Ron couldn't use that excuse for Harry, and he knew it. So what to do now?

Accept that Malfoy really is different, and accept that he is and wants to be a part of Harry's life, without any plots driving Malfoy's actions. And Harry wants him there too. But could _Ron_ learn to like him? And become friends with him? Ron knew that it would take a lifetime for him to get to that stage. But Harry was different like that; even with all the distrust and abuse he'd been through, he still wanted to see the inherent good in everyone. He doesn't want the world to have a dark side to it, even though he knows better than anyone just how dark that other side really is.

Ron had a sudden thought from the past—perhaps _that's_ why Harry stood up for Malfoy, Raven and Zabini three years ago. The Ministry wanted to punish them, the same as the other captured Death Eaters, but Harry and Dumbledore swayed the Ministry in favour of the trio, and they were let go under the supervision of a few Aurors. It was deemed that they were brainwashed, that their suffering during Sanctuary was enough direct punishment, and after almost a year, the Aurors assigned to them were released from their duties, and the three ex-Death Eaters were finally free.

So even then, when everyone mistrusted everyone else, Harry had already wanted to see the good in Malfoy. And Ron couldn't take that for granted. If he couldn't trust Harry, then who could he trust?

His thoughts were broken by Harry arriving back at his side, Malfoy still standing off in the distance, his arms folded across his chest, and his head tilted down. "Hey Ron," Harry said, "I really don't want to leave things like this, but I really need to get these potions notes figured out. Would you mind…I mean, I really do want to talk this all out-"

"No, that's fine Harry," Ron interrupted, giving his friend a soft smile. "I…I trust your judgement. And I understand that you need help with potions, and who's better here than Malfoy, huh?"

Harry's green eyes lit up and he smiled lopsidedly. "I'm glad you understand, Ron. You know…Draco will never replace you, if that's what you're worried about. You're my best mate, alright?" And Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, and Ron's heart warmed again. "Nothing will ever change that."

Ron's soft smile turned into a grin. "Yeah, mate, I know. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Harry nodded. "Later. I'll be back sometime tonight, though I don't know when."

Ron nodded as well. "Whenever, Harry."

"Okay. Well, I'll see you, alright?"

"Yeah." And Harry turned away, to head back towards Malfoy, and this time, Ron didn't feel quite so heart broken.

"Hey Harry!"

The man in question turned around and regarded his best friend with a smile. "Yeah, Ron?"

"Hermione and I were wondering if you were free to go to London on Sunday to get our robes fitted for the wedding!"

Harry grinned and nodded. "I'll keep my day open, Ron!" And with a wave good-bye, Harry walked back through the little town of Rookwood, with Malfoy by his side.

And Ron watched him go; praying that Harry found whatever it was that he truly needed.

* * *

When Draco had walked away from Harry and Ron, he had every intention of just going back to his dorm and doing his homework. Screw the studying with Harry. He needed some time alone. 

But Harry being Harry, and being the insufferable Gryffindor that he is, came running after Draco and tried to find out what was going on.

"Draco!" he heard behind him.

_Just go away, Potter. For once since this whole thing started, I don't feel like being near you._

"Draco," he heard next to him, and stopped when Harry put a hand on his arm and turned him around.

"What, Potter?" Draco said irritably, but tiredly too.

Harry frowned, but didn't address the issue of surname using. Instead, he said, "Draco, what's wrong? What…what was going on with Ron?"

"Just the same stuff, Potter," Draco answered. "But now I know what's really wrong with him."

"What do you mean?"

Draco snorted. "I'm sure you heard me, Harry. Ron thinks I'm trying to take his place, but he really couldn't be more wrong."

Harry frowned, shifting the book bag on his shoulder. "Oh, fuck. I'm gonna have to talk to him about that."

"Yes, you probably should."

Harry looked at Draco for a moment before saying, "Is that all, Draco? It seems like more is bothering you," Harry placed a hand on Draco's shoulder in reassurance.

Draco grimaced slightly. "You know I'm not all that good at talking about things, Harry."

"You've done alright so far."

Draco smiled softly. "I suppose." Taking a breath, he said, "Harry…something I was saying to Weasley earlier…" Draco trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Yeah?" Harry prompted.

The blond sighed. "He doesn't realise that you're…well, lonely."

"Me?" Harry seemed very confused, and he dropped his hand from Draco's shoulder.

"Yes, you. I'm not even sure _you_ realise it, do you, Harry?"

"What, that I'm lonely?"

"Yeah. And I don't mean that you're all alone."

"Then what _do_ you mean, Draco?"

"You have plenty of friends, Harry. And whether you know it or not, they've always been there for you."

"Have they?" Harry said, as if he were questioning the validity of that statement.

"Yes. But I can tell, Harry. You're still lonely, aren't you? And it's not the kind of lonely that your friends can take care of, is it?"

Harry stood there a moment, his gaze seemingly fixed on one of Draco's robe buttons, but his eyes were unfocused.

Finally, he said in a whisper, "How is it, that you can read me like an open book?" He looked up into Draco's eyes, a strange sort of look Draco couldn't place pooling in the dark green light. "How is it, that you can understand me before I can even understand myself?"

"I don't know," was all Draco could say.

Harry sighed heavily. "Neither do I. But…thank you for noticing, Draco."

The blond smirked. "Someone's got to watch out for the Boy Who Lived; and who better than myself?"

Harry snorted. "Enough of that 'Boy Who Lived' crap. I hate it." Then Harry smiled. "But you can keep looking out for me if you want."

"It'll be my pleasure," Draco said with sly grin.

"Hm," Harry nodded. "Well, I think I need to go patch things up with Ron, but just wait right here, and I'll see if I can't get away so we can go study."

"Alright."

And Draco watched Harry go to his best friend, feeling more like one of the dead leaves whirling aimlessly in the autumn wind than a person standing on his own two feet, able to make his own decisions and direct his life without effort.

What was he doing with Harry anymore?

* * *

Harry hadn't ever been in Draco's room before, even the night before, when he and Draco took a shower after being out in that storm. He found that it was the same room he occupied in Number One, and then belatedly realised that of _course_ they both occupied the same room; they were both student-housing representatives. 

Draco's room, though being the same, was actually much different. His bed was swathed in black, and it was closer to the centre of the room, rather than off to the side, like Harry's was. Draco also had a rather large full-length mirror near his closet, which Harry almost snorted at; leave it to Draco to have a mirror that size. All Harry had was the small one attached to his set of dresser drawers.

There were also little bits of wizardry lying about the room: Draco's Firebolt, a small potions making set on the corner of the desk, which was covered in all sorts of parchments but seemed to be in some sort of order. There was a poster on the wall for the Falmouth Falcons of the National Quidditch League, and two wizarding paintings on the wall—one of Hogwarts, and one of the ocean view that was just outside the library.

"Were these done by Raven?"

Draco looked up from going through some of the stacks on his desk. "Yeah. Good, aren't they?"

"Yeah…" Harry said, studying the one of his old home. A strange pang of the familiar hit his chest as he remembered his time at the old castle, watching as the clouds in the painting rolled and changed, and the Whomping Willow swayed and sighed with the wind.

"Brings back old memories, doesn't it?" Draco said softly from just behind Harry's right shoulder.

Harry nodded, but said, "But are they good or bad, is the question?" He turned and regarded Draco for a moment.

Draco smiled. "I'd like to think they were mostly good, considering."

"Considering what? That you were an absolute prat?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes. Considering I was a prat." He smiled. "And I'm still a prat, Harry. But you seem to forget that at the time, I rather enjoyed getting under your skin."

Harry snorted.

"I was the only one that could. Admit it, Potter."

"You wish, Malfoy."

"I wish a lot of things, Harry. And I always get what I wish."

"And the prat rears its ugly head."

Draco gasped in mock shock. "This head? Ugly? Harry, did you hit your head at practise when my head was turned?"

"Your head was turned away from me? For even a second?" Harry tried vanity.

Draco sent Harry 'A Look'. "Now who's being the prat?"

"I need more practise you know, if I'm ever going to get as good as you."

"Don't bother, Potter. You're too Gryffindor for that."

"You'd be surprised, Draco."

"Meaning…?"

Harry paused for a moment, seeming to size Draco up. "The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he said bluntly.

Draco stared at him for a moment, blinked, and then stared some more. A furrow made it's way onto his brow, and he said disbelievingly, "Excuse me?"

"I said, that the Sorting-"

"No, no, I heard you," Draco cut off. "I just…are you serious?"

"Why would I lie?"

Draco shook his head. "I guess you wouldn't, it's just…hard to accept. I mean, _Harry Potter_? A _Slytherin_?"

"Apparently," Harry said. "But I didn't want to be in Slytherin…I had heard that everyone who ever went bad was in Slytherin, and I…well, I had already met you, and you were such a snot…"

"Thanks, Potter."

"You're welcome," Harry smiled with laughter in his eyes. "But I found out later that when Voldemort tried to kill me-"

"Which time?" Draco interrupted wryly.

Harry smirked, understanding the joke. "The first. When I was just a baby."

"Oh," Draco said softly, feeling like he might have just broached a sensitive subject, but Harry didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah. I found out that when he tried to kill me then, he left a sort of…imprint of himself in me. That's why I can speak Parseltongue."

Draco's eyes opened wide and his lips parted in surprise. "Wow…Harry, I…that's…"

Harry laughed. "Ha! I've finally managed to render Draco Malfoy speechless!"

Draco scowled. "Time for studying, I think." And he whirled around, walking over to his desk. Picking up a stack of parchment, he held it out to Harry. "Here, take this downstairs to the dining table. I think we're going to need more room than I have up here."

Harry stepped forward and grabbed the stack, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. "All right."

"I'll meet you down there in a second. I just need to find a book, and I think it's somewhere at the bottom of my trunk."

"Okay," Harry replied, and left the room.

Draco quickly shucked off his outer robes, revealing his dark blue button-up shirt and black trousers. Throwing his robe over his chair, he smoothed down the wrinkles in his shirt, unbuttoned another button from the top, and moved to his trunk and opened it. After a few minutes of digging, he came up with a small book, a large roll of parchment, and stood, letting his trunk fall closed. Locking it with his wand, he stepped over to his mirror to check his reflection. Running a hand through his silky straight hair, and tilting his face to the side, he smiled.

"Perfection."

Turning, he left his room and made his way down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the threshold of the dining room. Harry was sitting there, the neat stack of parchment on the table, and another larger, and by far messier stack next to it, obviously Harry's. Harry was currently rummaging around in his bag looking for something, his hair sticking up adorably every which way, and a slight frown on his brow. Draco took a deep breath to calm his wayward nerves, and entered the room.

Harry looked up from his searching to find Draco smirking and moving around the table to sit down next to him.

"Harry, you're hopeless."

"I just can't find my quill," Harry replied, returning to his bag.

Draco reached across the stacks of papers to pull something out of the middle of Harry's. Holding up a ruffled quill to Harry's face, Draco cleared his throat.

Harry's head snapped up, and he blinked owlishly, a blush colouring his cheeks as Draco chuckled at him.

"Like I said, Potter, hopeless."

Harry put his bag down and took the quill, smoothing out the feather as best he could. "Well, then I guess it's a good thing I have you to look after me, huh?"

Draco lowered his gaze. "Yes. I'd guess it is."

"Okay, Mr. Babysitter of the Boy Who Lived, what're we going to do tonight?"

Turning on the tutor mode, Draco sat up straighter, placing the book and parchment he brought on the table. "Tonight, we're going to start charting up your notes. In alphabetical order by the common name."

"Okay."

Draco took the parchment and rolled it out in front of Harry. "All right. We're going to make a box chart, with the common name, the different parts of the plant that are useful, and what they are useful for."

"All right."

Harry set to work, drawing the outline of the boxes as he went and getting guidance from Draco, who looked through Harry's notes, his notes, and the book he brought downstairs.

"No, no, Harry. Ash is used for fever draughts, good luck potions, and snake bite salves. See?" And Draco held the small book over for Harry too look at.

"Oh, I see."

"And only the leaves are used in the good luck potions and the snake bite salves. The bark is used in the fever draughts."

"Thanks."

After an hour and a half, Harry was just finishing off the information for belladonna when his stomach let out a rather large growl. Draco glanced over and snickered from behind his book.

"Hungry, Potter?"

Harry blushed sheepishly, and ducked his head. "What time is it? I didn't even realise I was hungry." He rubbed his stomach absently.

Draco took out his pocket watch. "It's nearly half past eight. How about we call it quits for tonight and get something to eat?"

"That sounds good. What are you in the mood for?" Harry set down his quill and stretched in his chair.

Draco used the pretence of sitting up and setting his book down to cast a sly and cursory glance at Harry's stomach as it arched with his back. "Oh, I don't care. What's quick and easy to make?"

"Sandwiches?" Harry offered, gathering his things up and putting them in his bag.

Draco nodded. "I'm sure we can manage that."

He and Harry padded into the kitchen and quickly made some sandwiches and found a box of biscuits in the cupboard. Pouring themselves each a glass of milk, they headed back into the dining room, and set forth to stuffing their faces full without much discussion.

Once finished, Harry yawned and stretched again. "I think I'd better go. It's getting late, and I still have a bit more homework to finish up."

"All right," Draco said, standing. "I guess I'll show you out."

"Thanks for all your help, Draco, really," Harry said, standing as well. "I'd be so lost."

Draco lifted up a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "It's good review for me, Harry. Besides, who on earth would have the patience to help your hopeless arse?"

Harry playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Hey! I'm not that hopeless, am I?"

Draco just raised an eyebrow. And Harry's lips developed a small pout. Draco laughed and said, "No, you're not really all _that_ hopeless. But your skills and strengths are in the air, Harry. On a broomstick."

Harry shoved his feet into his shoes. "Are you saying I should go pro if offered, instead of getting into medicine?"

Draco shrugged. "It's up to you, Harry. Do what you want."

"You're a _whole_ lot of help, Draco."

"Hey, I just said I'd help you with organising your notes, not with picking a life-time career."

Harry sighed. "Yeah I know. I just wish it was easier."

"Life's not meant to be easy, I think."

Harry nodded. "Too right." Smiling, he opened the front door. "Well, thanks again, Draco. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight." And Harry gave Draco a little wave before stepping out onto the porch and into the crisp night.

"Goodnight, Harry." Draco closed the door behind him and let out a cleansing breath.

_Life's never going to be easy for either of us, Harry.

* * *

_

The morning of the big Quidditch match between the British Institute Sirens and the Scuola Italiana Whirlwind Widgeons dawned bright and clear. The lack of clouds to keep the heat in made the air nice and crisp in the shadows, while the sun warmed the air directly around all of those gathered at the B.I.'s Quidditch pitch that morning, awaiting the game.

Thankfully, the game was being held on the home ground for the Sirens, and everyone in Rookwood closed up shop and came down to the pitch to watch the game. Quite a few supporters of the Widgeons were there as well, although their crowd was miniscule compared to all of those supporting B.I.

Draco sat in the stands with Raven, the cool air turning his cheeks and nose a light pink. He could make out Granger and her lot in a crowd a few stands down, making more noise and holding supporting signs for Harry and Weasley, which sparkled magically and changed every few minutes to say something like, 'Harry Potter Out-Seeks the Rest', and 'He's the Best!' and 'Weasley's Our Keeping King!'; no doubt a play on Draco's rather ingenious fun-making of their old Hogwarts days.

Trying to hide a smile at the memories, he took the mug of hot cocoa that Raven offered him and put his other arm around her. She placed a kiss on his cheek and said,

"Do you think we're gonna win today?"

Draco snorted. "When have we ever _not_ won? Harry's on the team. I don't care how tough these guys are, Harry is by far the most graceful player on the planet, in my humble opinion."

"You sound quite different from last time we were here."

"Last time we were here, love, I wasn't trying to get into Harry's pants," he mumbled into her ear, nuzzling it slightly.

She giggled and held him closer. "No, I suppose not. But still, Harry didn't do too well the last few years. I mean, we still won a whole lot, but I don't think he was as into the game like he was when he was at Hogwarts."

Draco murmured in agreement. "Telling from practise, he seems to have gotten his game back a bit. But maybe it's just me. I stopped paying attention after a while."

"Well, we'll see today, won't we?"

"Hmmm…yes, we shall."

The game lasted much longer than even Draco had anticipated, even with knowing what he knew about the Widgeons. They seemed to play much harder than he remembered from other matches he had seen, and the scoring of points was so minimal—Draco had to silently congratulate Weasley on his good keeping skills. He was much, much better than he had been in his early years as Keeper.

The Snitch seemed to be keeping hidden for most of the game—neither Harry nor the Widgeon Seeker had caught sight of it for more than a second or two—and Draco could tell that it's invisibility was grating on every players' nerves.

About three and a half hours into the game, a Beater on the B.I.'s side managed to knock out the Widgeon's Keeper, which gave the Sirens the advantage of gaining several more goals. The score was then 200-40 Sirens, and the Snitch had yet to show its flitterly golden face in twenty minutes.

Within the next five minutes, things got more quick and dirty, and sudden black clouds from the north rolled in, bringing rain. Visibility very quickly became near zero, and the Golden Snitch finally showed it's self.

The dance between Harry and Viridelli, the Widgeon Seeker, was harsher and meaner than Draco had ever seen. Harry was all grace in the air—and this monstrosity was an insult to that grace—as Harry and Viridelli battled it out on brooms. Harry held is own though, and could not be dissuaded by the harsh beating Viridelli seemed to want to give him, regardless if Harry caught the Snitch or not.

The score was 210-50 when Viridelli caught the Snitch, three and three quarter's hours after the game began. The Sirens won by ten points.

The soaking wet crowd and teams seemed to sag in a sort of relief; both just glad the game was over, the Sirens breathing more in relief because of their too-close-for-comfort win.

Draco sighed as well, but froze again as he watched Harry dive for the ground and dismount his broom, stalking off and charging right past his team and the stands, past the locker rooms and into the woods.

Raven looked at up at Draco. "Do you think something's the matter with Harry?"

Draco continued to watch the spot in the trees where Harry had disappeared in. "I think so, yeah."

"You going to go after him?"

Draco looked down at his girlfriend, and looked into her green eyes as if searching for something that he knew wouldn't be there. Her eyes weren't the right shade of green; the patterns in the irises were different. And Draco knew that, and didn't know how to react to it.

"Yes." He gave her a little hug. "You head on back home and get warm. I'll find Harry."

But finding Harry was harder than it seemed. Where could a man go in such a small place, only surrounded by hills and trees and… The Irish Sea…

And by then, a few hours later, Draco knew the answer.

* * *

Ron had just come back from looking for Harry in Rookwood when he spotted Malfoy coming out of his dorm, donning a impervious-spelled cloak, and carrying another in his hand. 

"Malfoy! Hey Malfoy!"

The man in question stopped, and waited for Ron to catch up with him.

"Yes, Weasley?"

"Have you seen Harry?" Ron asked a little breathlessly.

Draco frowned. "No. But I think I might know where he is."

"Really? Where?"

"Care to follow me?"

Ron gave Draco a wary glance. "I…I suppose so."

"Good, let's go."

The trip was made in silence, and Ron made many a sceptical glance in Draco's direction, which was mainly at the blonde's unknowing back, and found himself wondering just where in the hell they were going. So eventually he asked.

Draco replied shortly. "A place Harry and I know of."

Ron did not appreciate the vague answer. "Malfoy, you're taking me there, aren't you? So why not just tell me where it is?"

"It's an alcove, a few miles north of campus."

"Oh." Didn't really sound all that exciting in Ron's book.

But Ron's heart started beating furiously as the alcove came into view. The cliff that went into the crashing waves on the jagged rock below was a good forty metres down, and Ron quickly glanced over the edge before backing away.

"And Harry's here somewhere?" he asked, looking at Draco.

Draco's lips were pressed in a hard line. "I thought so."

Ron looked down to the water again. "You don't think…I mean…we won! Why would Harry be upset?"

Draco turned and looked back into the woods. "I would have thought you'd know that better than I, Weasley. I still don't understand how his brain works, really." Draco sighed and rubbed the water off of his face. "No, I don't think Harry jumped. I think he's…well…everyone else is out looking for them, aren't they?"

"Yes…" Ron replied uneasily.

"Has anyone checked the beach? The one next to the school?"

"I'm not sure…why do you ask?"

"I remember once…the day Harry and I first started talking…we got in a fight, and he walked off in that direction. Maybe he's down there."

"Then let's go check."

Draco nodded, and he and Ron walked back through the muddy woods.

A few minutes later, they found him; he was sitting on a rock, just above the spray of the sea, still in his Quidditch robes, his broom across his lap, and his head bowed. He was soaked through to the bone, and did not seem to hear when Draco and Ron called out to him. Or maybe he just didn't care.

"Harry!" Ron called again, trying to make his way down the jagged slope, slipping slightly on the wet rock. Draco followed him, and they both grimaced as their faces were bombarded with salty seawater.

"Harry," Draco said, putting the extra cloak around the man's shoulders, "you're going to die if you stay out here much longer, and how am I supposed to watch out for you if you're dead?" He missed the strange look Ron gave him as he bent down.

Harry finally raised his head. "You would have done better," he said.

"What, as Seeker?" Draco asked. "Shit, Harry, I may be a Slytherin, and we may play hard, but I _know_ I wouldn't have been able to handle it out there today. You did your best. Yes, you didn't catch the Snitch, but we still won!"

Harry finally stood and turned to face them, his eyes dark, the red gash under his left eye standing out harshly on his abnormally pale skin, his mouth set in a hard scowling line. "But we nearly didn't," he said in deadly calm voice.

Ron finally cut in. "Harry, I was out there today too, and it was a really rough game. And regardless of whether or not you caught the Snitch, it was going to be close. Our only saving grace was that we knocked their Keeper out. It was a team effort that we scored all those points today, Harry. Just because the catching of the Snitch falls on your hands, and it just happens to finish the game, doesn't mean it's all on you to make sure we win."

"But that's all anybody really cares about, isn't it? The faster I catch the Snitch, the better off the team is; the fucking _easier_ it is for everybody! All because it ends the game; all because it gains us a hundred and fifty points. If all it did was end the game, do you think the rest of the team would try harder? Because it'd be up to them to make sure we have enough points before the Snitch is caught?"

Draco frowned. "I think they try hard as it is, Harry. You're twisting the game around. You _always_ have to stay ahead of the other team, for the very reason we saw today. If we hadn't have made all those points, we could have lost by a lot more than we won by."

"It's just so fucking unfair," Harry spat.

Draco stepped up to him, taking a hold of Harry's shoulder and gave him a sound slap across the face with his other hand. There was a solid minute where all was silent; even the storm it seemed; and Harry's face turned a bright red where wet flesh met wet flesh, and it was all he could do not to cry out in pain. His ruby-red lips were parted, and salty tears stung in his eyes, which were wide open in shock. His glasses now hung slightly askew, as his face was turned to the side, and he could just barely make out Draco and Ron's forms in the darkening light.

Ron stood with his mouth hanging open, staring at Malfoy like he'd gone mad, and only just managed not to say anything, courtesy of his throat having closed off in shock. He watched as Harry stood stock still, his cheek reddening and his mouth open in surprise.

"Harry," Draco said in calm reassurance, "you're whining. It's pathetic, and beneath you. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and just accept that what happened today was just another really rough Quidditch game. Chaikovsky made the right choice in appointing you as Seeker, and I _know_ I couldn't have done better, as much as it even pains me to admit. Now, it's fucking cold out here, and I can already tell that you're suffering from mild hypothermia. We're going inside. Now."

And Harry didn't argue as Draco ushered them all up the slope and over to Number One. Ron led them all in, and took Harry upstairs to get him out of his wet clothing and into some dry pyjamas, telling Draco to wait downstairs so Ron would speak with him afterwards. Hermione and the gang were there in the lounge, taking a warm-up break after looking for Harry. She ran up the stairs behind Ron after casting a confused look in Draco's direction. Seamus and Ginny came in a moment later, and Draco just stood in the foyer awkwardly, but refused to show it, trying to ignore the suspicious glances from his schoolmates.

Finally, Ron and Hermione came downstairs and ushered Draco into the kitchen, where Hermione made four mugs of hot tea and gave one to Seamus to go give Harry, who was lying down. Turning to Draco she said,

"Ron told me what happened."

Draco sipped his tea in silence.

Ron rolled his eyes and said, "Why'd you have to be so harsh with him, Malfoy?"

Draco set his teacup down and said calmly, "I'm not sure if you noticed, but Harry hates it when you pussyfoot around him. You heard him, Weasley. He was going off on a self-pity rant, and trying to be placating isn't going to help him. That's why he never talked to you. You never got in his face about it, as far as my knowledge goes. Being there for him is fine, but Harry not only wants you to come to him, but he wants to be left by himself to figure out his own problems too. An oxymoron if I ever heard of one."

Ron glared down at the blond. "We _did_ go to him, Malfoy. You weren't there! You don't know what it's like to see your best friend so hopeless, and anything and everything you try doesn't do a _damn_ thing!"

"Ron, please," Hermione said. "Harry's just upstairs. Keep your voice down so he can rest." Then she turned to Draco. "But Ron's right, Malfoy. We tried all we could. Harry never wanted us. Ron and he got into more fights than I can even count, just because Harry didn't want to talk to us."

Draco stood there for a minute, processing that information. After a long moment he said, "Then perhaps Harry was just unreachable for a time. But he's reachable now."

"And you're going to do what about that?" Hermione asked.

"I'm going to be reachable back to him, of course." Draco said it like it was the most natural thing in the world for Draco Malfoy to be there for Harry Potter in his times of need.

Ron snorted slightly, and Hermione just looked at him very seriously.

"Harry's lonely, Malfoy," she said. "Do you know what I'm referring to?"

Draco looked back at her just as seriously. "I was trying to tell Weasley that just the other day."

Hermione and Draco shared a grave look, and Ron looked off to the side in embarrassment. Hermione turned to her fiancé. "Do _you_ understand, Ron?"

"Yes," he replied tersely. "But what I don't understand, is what Malfoy here has to do with it."

Hermione looked back over to Draco. Studying him closely she murmured quietly, "It's a mutual thing, isn't it? Between you and Raven?"

Draco frowned. "Not necessarily," was his rather vague answer to her rather vague question.

Ron looked confused. "What are you guys talking about?"

Hermione kept her eyes on Draco's; willing him with her brown ones to understand the severity to what road possibly lay in front of them. Draco's grey ones answered back in quiet comprehension.

"We'll let Harry make his own decisions, Ron. Regarding his friends, and his love life."

"Okay…" Ron trailed off in puzzlement.

"I should go," Draco said, and made to leave.

"Thanks for bringing him back, Draco," Hermione said.

Ron looked at her sharply for using Draco's given name, but at a glance, simply frowned and said to Draco, "Thanks for helping me find him, Malfoy."

"You're welcome," Draco answered, leaving through the front door.

Ron turned to Hermione, "Did I miss something? You sounded like you were speaking in riddles for a moment. What's Malfoy got to do with Harry's love life?"

Hermione regarded her fiancé, and moved to give him a hug. "I think…well, this is totally a guess, Ron, so don't jump to conclusions, but I think…that Malfoy's starting to have feelings for Harry."

"Feelings? As in…'more than friends' kind of feelings?"

"Yes."

"Oh Merlin, that's…ugh…I can't think about it. I don't _want_ to think about it, but I…I think I already did a few days ago, actually." Ron grimaced and tried to swallow the sour taste in his mouth. "But they're both guys, Hermione! Harry's not…gay, is he?" Ron's brain was suddenly whirling with questions and suspicions. Did Harry ever let on that he might like blokes? Ron really couldn't think of anything completely wayward, minus the serious lack of girlfriends, but then again, that could be contributed to the fact that he had a world to save, and a muggle-hating lunatic after his head…

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Ron. But like I said, it's just a thought. I'm wondering if Raven liking Harry has been putting thoughts in Malfoy's head. Maybe Raven and Malfoy want to add Harry into their relationship."

Ron grimaced again. "Do you think I should talk to Harry about it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so, Ron. Let Harry figure out his…feelings, or sexuality, by himself. You might wind up putting an idea in his head just by asking about it yourself."

"Good point." Then Ron sighed. "It doesn't really make any sense to me, but…whatever makes Harry happy…"

"I know," was all Hermione could say. She'd have to think about it for a while. Right now, even though she had her suspicions, and she seemed rather calm, she was just as confused and…not disgusted, but more like _not understanding_ of the idea that seemed to have sprung up in her mind. She wasn't discriminatory of homosexuality, but _Harry and Malfoy_? It was just…too hard to believe. She was still getting used to them being friends. But if Harry found himself having feelings for the blond, Hermione couldn't really find it in herself to begrudge him that. She just hoped that Ron could understand. Homosexuality wasn't a common thing in the pureblood families for obvious reasons, but not a completely non-existing thing in the Wizarding World either. It just…wasn't as out in the open as it seemed to be becoming in the muggle one.

"C'mon," the young woman said, pulling away and taking Ron by the hand. "Let's go upstairs and check on Harry."

When they got there, he was fast asleep and bundled up, the colour returning to his skin, his shivering gone and his breathing deep and regular. Ron looked down at him with a pained and confused look, watching as Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and took Harry's hand in hers.

"We just want you to be happy, Harry," she whispered. "Wherever that path will take you." She pressed a short kiss to the faded scar on his forehead, and stood, taking a hold of Ron's hand and gently tugging him out of the room.

"Goodnight, mate," Ron whispered as he closed the door.

* * *

Harry awoke mid-morning feeling rather lethargic and quite wretched. He also, in his muddled state of mind, noticed that he could barely move—he was wrapped up in blankets, which twisted around his legs and torso, inhibiting his movement. Slowly, he managed to untangle himself from the mess and sit up, rubbing his eyes in a half-hearted effort to wake himself up. 

Blindly, he stumbled his way to the bathroom to relieve himself, and then promptly fell back into bed. Wondering whom he must have gotten in a duel with, for he could not feel so horrible otherwise, he started drifting off into slumberland when there was a knock on the door.

"Harry?" Ron's voice came from the other side of the door, just before it opened. "Harry, mate, are you awake?"

There was a small groan from the lump of flesh on the bed.

Ron smiled to himself and entered the room. "How you feelin', mate?"

Harry pushed the covers from his face and said in a croak, "Like shit."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm gonna bring you up some soup, all right? Then, hopefully you'll feel good enough to come to London today."

"London?"

"Yeah, remember? You and me are going to get fitted for our robes for the wedding."

Harry grimaced and tried to reply, but Ron waved him off. "It's all right. Don't worry about forgetting. You've had other things on your mind."

Harry smiled tiredly, and his eyes drifted shut again. Ron left to make Harry's soup, and brought it back up a few minutes later. Halfway through the bowl, Harry was feeling much better, and started talking a bit more animatedly with Ron, when there was another knock on the door.

"Harry?"

"Come in."

Raven appeared from behind the door, just peeking her head in. "Hi, Harry. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better."

She nodded and moved into the room. "Hello, Weasley."

Ron nodded. "Harrell."

Raven turned back to Harry. "I was wondering, Harry, if you're up for it, if you'd like to go to London with me today."

Harry chuckled. "Actually, I'm already going there with Ron and Hermione. To get wedding robes fitted."

"Oh. Okay. Well, we can just go another-"

"Well, how about I meet you there, after I'm done?" Harry cast a quick look at Ron, who gave Harry a sort of 'whatever, mate' smile.

"Sure," Raven answered. "What time and where?"

"How about at the ice cream parlour at…?" He looked at Ron for some input.

"Er…" Ron cleared his throat. "We should be done by one, I think."

Harry turned back to Raven. "Is two all right?"

"Two's fine. I'm glad you seem to be better, Harry. See you later. Goodbye, Weasley."

"Bye."

"Bye."

"I wonder if Malfoy's going," Ron questioned, after the girl left.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm…I wouldn't know what to say to him, honestly," Harry said, his head bowed as he finished off his stew.

Ron bit his lip. He didn't know what to say to his friend, other than 'be careful' and 'are you gay, because 'Mione and I think Malfoy might have the hots for you' and…yeah. There was nothing to say.

So, instead, he cleared his throat and stood, leaning down the take the empty bowl from his friend's lap. "It should be fine."

Harry looked at him puzzled and asked, "Ron, do you…are you…do you still hate the fact that Draco's my friend?"

Ron pursed his lips and sighed. "I'm not sure, Harry. I just…I just want you to be happy."

Harry looked away to his window. "I just want me to be happy too."

"I'm still dealing with it, Harry. But…I'm not totally blind. I can tell that he's different. It's working in his favour."

Harry chuckled. "Well, that's a start, at any rate. So, what time are we off?"

Ron smiled. "In an hour. So take a shower and shave. You still look like shit, even if you're feeling better."

"Oh, shove off, Ron."

And Harry shook his head and made to climb out of bed to get ready for the day.

* * *

Being back in Diagon Alley after such a long absence made it seem like the first time all over again for Harry. Except this time, he had his two best friends by his side. Ginny said she'd meet them at the robe shop, as she had a few things to get done beforehand. 

They were all chatting amicably about nothing at all and everything at once. Hermione would keep stopping at various bobble shops, musing things over and asking Ron, "Honey, do you think this would do good as a centre piece for the head table?" And Ron would answer, "Sure, love, whatever you think would be best," and then she would become petulant that he wasn't paying enough attention and didn't _care_ enough about the wedding, and didn't he know it was in less than three months?

And Harry, smiling at his love-sick friends, would quietly extricate himself from the pair so as not to get involved, and wander across the path to Quality Quidditch Supplies to check out the latest in Quidditch gear.

He was just admiring a nice pair of gloves when Hermione appeared by his side. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry turned and looked down at the small bouquet of dried flowers and berries in Hermione's hand. "Er…I think they're very nice, Hermione, but maybe you should ask Ginny later, when she's here. I think she might have a better opinion."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Harry. I was actually thinking that they look too much like autumn. And since our wedding is in December, perhaps something a bit more festive for winter?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Ron plodded over, an aggrieved look on his face. "We should get going to Madam Malkin's. We don't want to be late."

Hermione and Harry nodded, and Hermione returned the bouquet to the bobble shop, and they set off for Madam Malkin's.

The shop was as Harry had always remembered it, as was the shop's owner. Madam Malkin came straight up to them, shaking all their hands and giving Harry a short one-armed hug. Ginny walked in a minute later, and the madam and her assistant set to work on getting everyone fitted.

Once the fitting was done, Madam Malkin took Hermione and Ron by the elbows and led them to a swatch book of fabrics, asking about materials and colours.

Ron just stood there in befuddlement, never one to even have the chance at new robes, and of course, he knew nothing about colouring. But this was just such an important decision, so he called his sister and Harry over for their opinions.

"I'd go with the white, with ice-blue trimmings for Hermione's robes, in something light and airy, but charmed to keep you warm…you'll look like a snow faery." Ginny said.

Hermione nodded her approval, and turned to Ron. He gulped and said, "I think that'd look nice."

Hermione and Ginny rolled eyes at one another, but smiled.

"And Ron's?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm…" Ginny said, biting her lip and flipping the pages of the swatch book. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry started a bit, and looked down at the book in front of them. "Er…how about…dark blue, to match Hermione, with white trim?" He said uncertainly.

Hermione and Ginny looked up at Harry, approving surprise on their faces. "That's perfect, Harry," Hermione said.

Ron nodded, thinking about it in his head. "Yeah…that might be good."

"But now, what fabric?" Ginny asked.

"I'm thinking velvet," Hermione said.

"That's awfully expensive, Hermione," Ron said in a worried undertone.

"Don't worry about it, Ron," Harry said. "I'll pay for the robes."

Everyone looked at Harry in shock. "No, Harry," Ron said. "I won't have you paying for something so-"

"I want to, Ron."

"But-"

"Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad or step on your pride because you still have money problems, but this is my best friend's wedding. Both of my best friends," he said, smiling at Hermione. "And I have no use for all this money I have. You know I don't. So let me help you out, all right? As your best man?"

Hermione placed a hand on Ron's arm, and looked up at him. Ron looked back down to her, and they seemed to communicate with their eyes. Finally, Ron turned back to Harry and nodded. "Okay, mate. But _only_ this one time. And _only_ for the robes. Nothing else."

"I'll pay for my own robes," Ginny put in. "I have a bit of money saved up."

"Are you sure, Gin?" Ron asked.

The petit redhead nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure. So Harry, you don't have to cover me."

"All right."

That being settled, they spent the next twenty minutes deciding on appropriate colours for the best man and maid of honour; choosing a light, minty green for Ginny, and a dark green for Harry; to sort of set off the sides, and compliment the use of the wintery colours of blue and white, and the earthy colour of green. Harry sort of rolled his eyes at acquiring yet another set of dark green dress robes, but figured that it must be his colour, since everyone approved of him wearing it all the time. He really was partial to dark red, but he supposed green was growing on him after all these years.

Leaving the shop and a very happy Madam Malkin, Hermione and Ginny went straight off to discuss the bobbles, and Ron and Harry made their way across the path to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to nab some treats, and wait for Raven. They were fifteen minutes early.

The parlour wasn't very busy, seeing as it was so cold out this time of year, but Ron and Harry still got some ice cream sundae's and a bit of coffee to warm themselves afterwards.

"That was crazy, wasn't it?" Ron asked as he licked off some hot fudge from his spoon.

"I suppose. It could have been worse."

"You're right. In fact, I am _so_ glad we didn't invite Mum. She's been itching to help with the wedding, and all I can keep telling her is that she can be in charge of the food for the after party."

Harry chuckled. "Then it's a sure thing that we'll need our robes to be expandable then. Your mum will stuff everyone full."

"Too right about that. But at least it's Mum's food, and not some wizard caterer."

"I agree. I love your mum's mashers."

Ron hummed in agreement as he started to inhale his sweet, creamy treat.

"Having fun?" A voice said from behind Harry.

He turned, and saw Raven standing there, a book bag across her shoulder, and wearing a nice black jumper and a dark red brocade skirt that almost touched the floor. Her hair was down, and nearly blended in with the darkness of her sweater.

"Hi, Raven!"

"Hi, Harry. How are you, Weasley?"

Ron quickly swallowed his current mouthful, and said, "I'm fine. You?"

"Smashing. I'm just going to get a coffee to warm up, and I'll be back in a minute, all right?"

"Okay," Harry said, and watched her head over to the counter.

Ron watched his friend. He decided to be blunt. "Thinking of moving in on Malfoy's territory?"

Harry blinked and whipped his head around. "What?"

"You're staring at Raven."

Harry blushed. "Well…I…well, she's very pretty!"

Ron snorted. "Oh come off it, Harry. You're twenty-three, you've never had a girlfriend, and you're still a virgin. I'm surprised you haven't tried to poke her already."

"Ron!" Harry hissed. "Keep your voice down!"

"Why? Because I'm telling the truth?" Ron raised an eyebrow.

"I, er…I don't know! Just…it's not like that, okay? I'm not sure how I feel."

"Okay, okay, Harry. I won't bug you about it. Just…be careful."

"I will. But I'm not about to 'poke' anybody."

"But you still want to, don't you?"

Harry frowned and looked into his melting ice cream. "Maybe…"

Ron laughed as Raven came back over to them and sat down in an empty chair. "What's so funny?" she asked.

Ron bit his lip to hold his laughter in, and tried to finish off his ice cream and coffee. Harry just shook his head. "Nothing, really. Ron's just being an idiot." Harry smiled and continued with his own ice cream.

Raven raised an eyebrow. "I see…"

Ron inhaled the last of his ice cream, and nearly slammed back his coffee. Standing, he set a few coins on the counter. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you later, Harry. Harrell."

"Later, Ron."

"Weasley."

Harry and Raven watched him leave, and Harry quickly finished of his sundae and took a large gulp of his coffee. "So, Raven, what are we going to do today?"

Raven sipped her mug as well and answered, "I was wondering if you could help me, actually."

"Sure. With what?"

"I want to go into muggle London, but I'm not sure where to go, and I don't understand the currency."

"Oh, okay. I think I can manage that. Where do you want to go?"

"Just a bookstore. Dennis suggested I get a few books on muggle photography."

"All right. I might know a place, but we'll have to see if it's still there. I haven't really spent a lot of time in London since I was a kid, and even then I was always in Surrey."

"Okay."

"Do you have some muggle pounds?"

"No. I was hoping you might help me with that."

Harry nodded. "We should be able to exchange some at Gringotts."

"Perfect."

They finished up their drinks, and paid for them, heading out onto the wet cobblestone of Diagon Alley. Making their way to Gringotts, they entered and were immediately seen to, signing the proper paperwork to receive funds given in the form of muggle pounds, and then they were off, back into the alley, and down to the Leaky Cauldron.

"So you're really getting into photography, huh?" Harry asked, as they stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and onto the pavement of Charing Cross Road.

Raven nodded, adjusting her bag, and stepping around a puddle in her high-heeled boots. "Yeah, it's fascinating, really. Are you still willing to be my model?"

"Of course. Just call whenever you need me." They walked down the street for a few moments before he asked hesitantly, "Did Draco not want to come today?"

Raven looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "He's busy with his potions thesis." And making a guess as to why Harry was asking, she added, "It doesn't have anything to do with you, Harry."

"Do you know what happened last night?"

"Not really, no. Draco just mentioned that he and Weasley found you on the beach, and that you were pretty out of it. He didn't really want to talk about it."

"Oh."

They walked for a few more moments before turning the corner and happening upon a bookshop half a block down and on the other side of the street. Harry and Raven headed over, and entered the non-descript shop and were immediately warmed up by the sweet air. They wandered around a moment before they found the proper shelves, and Raven's eyes lit up as she poured over all the books available at her fingertips. Harry let her be and moved around the shop, moving over to the sports section to look at a few magazines on football, and past the occult section, where he silently chuckled at some of the perceptions of muggle's witchcraft. Some not quite unlike his wizardry, but if only they knew…

After about a half an hour, he went to go find Raven, only to find her missing from the photography section. Walking down a few more aisles, he found her pouring over a large book of some kind, and looking at the shelves, gleaned what the subject matter was about, and rightly blushed.

"Er…Raven?"

Raven whirled around and quickly tried to cover up the book in her hands. "Yes, Harry?"

"Are you ready to go?"

"Ah…sure…I just…" She fumbled around with the books in her hands for a moment before pulling out one on cameras. "Um…is there a way to tell how much they are?"

Harry smiled at Raven's uncharacteristic nervousness, and took the proffered book. "Yeah, it's right here in the back, above the barcode. Here, see? This one is ₤20."

"Do I have enough?"

"Yeah, you have plenty."

"Great!" she beamed. "I'll uh…just be right back, and we can go." She backed away and left the aisle, skittering out of sight.

Harry nearly laughed, but smiled instead, and looked at the shelf that Raven had been standing in front of. Looking at the range of books, he picked up a large one that looked like it might have been the one Raven had been looking at.

_A Fully Illustrated Guide to Sex of All Forms_, the title read.

Harry blushed up to his roots, but found himself intrigued, and thus, opened the book to thumb through the pages.

It was fully illustrated, all right.

Harry found himself looking at rather graphic depictions of all kinds of sexual positions, and quickly moved on, reading a few chapter titles like, _Chapter Twenty-Two: Bondage _and _Chapter Thirty: The Homo-Erotica._

Harry barely caught a glance of two men together before he felt the impulse to set it down, lest he were caught looking at such material.

_Oh, for fucks sake, Potter. You're twenty-three…you should be past this…you should be _doing_ that stuff. Ugh, I'm pathetic._

Harry was right in setting the book down and moving out of the aisle, as Raven was back in his sight, and carrying a large plastic bag full of books.

"Would you like me to carry that for you?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." Raven handed over the bag and led them out into the street. She was just about to cross when Harry suddenly took a hold of her hand and tugged her back. A cyclist came zooming by, and would have run into Raven, had she been standing in the street.

"Watch it. Just because there aren't cars, doesn't mean you can't get run over."

"Oh…thank you." Raven blushed prettily.

Harry stood there for a moment, feeling…unsure of what to do but _knowing_ that he wanted to do _something._ But also knowing it was wrong. His breath was caught in his throat, and the images from the book were whirling in his head, but he swallowed it all down, and tried to ignore his long neglected libido.

He squeezed her hand and made to pull her along, but she didn't move, and when he turned back around, he found himself with an armful of Raven, who had flung her arms around his neck in a crushing hug.

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry felt like she was thanking him for more than just saving her from harm, but didn't know what it could be. Placing his open arm around her waist, he hugged her back.

"Er…you're welcome."

Pulling back, Raven kissed him on the cheek. "Let's get back home."

"All right," he murmured, blushing and biting his lip, forbidding any and all thoughts of his friend's girlfriend from entering his mind, but it didn't seem to be working.

She took his hand in hers, and they started walking in silence, Harry absently leading the way to the Leaky Cauldron, lost in his thoughts.

"Harry?" Raven asked, after a time.

"Yeah?" he replied distantly.

"How would you feel about doing a nude with Draco?"

Harry, who's mind had been in a completely different field, almost tripped on the empty pavement. "Excuse me?"

"I'd like to do a few nudes. Of you and Draco. Would that be alright?"

"You mean…both of us? At the same time?"

"Yeah."

"I…er…" Harry furrowed his brow and tried to imagine sitting there with Draco, naked. A nervous flutter rose in his stomach, but it didn't disgust him as he thought it might. It was just…an odd thought. "I suppose it's fine, I mean…I guess as long as he's okay with it."

"Oh, he is. I've already asked him."

"Okay."

"Is next Saturday okay with you?"

"Ah, sure. That should be fine." They stopped in front of their destination, and turned to face each other.

"Great. Thank you," she smiled.

Harry averted his gaze to the pavement. "It's no problem."

Raven squeezed his hand and let go, disappearing into the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry sighed; feeling like his world had been put into a snow globe and shaken around a whole bunch of times in the past two days. _Posing nude with Draco Malfoy…what's the world coming to? And goddammit, why'd I have to fall for his girl?_ Harry looked up into the sky, as if it might hold the answers. All that met him was a splatter of water on his cheek as the overcast clouds began their next torrent of rain.

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**A/N:** _Whew! It's over! Well, not the story, but the chapter! __I will tell you now, that I really couldn't have done this or rather, dealt with this _or_ life, if it weren't for you, my wonderful readers, or my beautiful betas. You guys mean SO much to me. THANK YOU!_

_I cannot say how long until the next chapter however, as not only is life still harrowing, but the school quarter is coming to an end, and my workload is only getting higher. I've survived STAR WARS so far, but who's to say? I'll be going on a two-week vacation in three weeks, and I'm hoping to have the next chapter out by that time, but I make no promises. I can write fairly quickly, when life permits, but beta-ing chapters still takes another week or so on top of that. This vacation will not, unfortunately, allow me to write…but if I get a chance, I will try. I'm heading home for a few weeks, for a much-needed break of Washington, and much-needed time with my fiancé and family._

_So, pray that I make it out of this quarter alive, and I'll see what I can't do for you! ;)_

_I love you all!_

**Review Responses…**

**IcyAurora8, misterjones, and MachiavellianOrange: **Thanks for leaving a review you guys. :P I enjoy getting them, especially from you, and after you spent all that time helping me!

**AshleeBrooke, Friends Call Me K, princessrulebreaker, reader, Windy River, totchii, Mebear, Inu-nane, Licelli, and From the Dark I Will Rise: **Thank you SO MUCH for the review!

**Hottogo:** I'm really glad you like my story! I hope this chapter satisfied you a bit…at least for a while…

**Kat:** oooh! I LOVE chocolate! Especially truffles! munches happily I'm hoping my next update won't be too long…

**scarblade:** Thanks for the three reviews! (Though I wonder how you managed to review for chapter thirteen twice…it's never let me do that before…) And I really hate that about other stories too; that they have all these easily fixable mistakes. You can be ecstatic, or even have a good story plot, but if you have mistakes, no one will respect you as an author. So, I'm glad you think so highly of me! (I hope that wasn't too ego- centric…)

**fifespice**: Thank you for the birthday wishes! To answer your questions, I can't really tell you about Draco and Raven…it's a major plot point, and if I were to tell you, I'd be giving the story away! And yes, Harry will find what he's looking for…but it might come at a price… (lol I love sounding cryptic and vague…) I agree about Harry though, he really does deserve happiness. Thank you for the review!

**imLittleLily:** Thank you for the review. And I hope your break does you some good. I think I've been needing one too, though to be honest, part of the reason this chapter took so long, is because I didn't have any time to write! Thanks again for the review, and good luck wishes to you too!

**Incessant Darkness:** First of all, thank you for the review and the birthday wishes! I am so happy that you like my story, and that you think Raven is a good compliment to Draco. And that she is written well. I'd like to think so too, though that's a bit conceited of me to say. I'm very happy that this chapter made you feel better, and that it helped you write on your own stories. To know that I've helped someone, even inadvertently, really makes my day!

**TheArtDisarray:** Thank you for your sincere review. I'm glad you think that I've captured Raven so well, though sometimes I rue the day I thought of her. She is kind of tying things up for Harry and Draco, yet she causes a lot of problems between them as well. As far as her starting their relationship…as it stands now, yes, in a way she did. But remember that the two boys have known each other longer than Draco and Raven have even been friends. So, other than getting them to actually talk to each other (and putting interesting thoughts in Draco's head), everything else has been Draco and Harry's own doing. She really hasn't been there all that much. I'm sorry I couldn't be faster with this chapter, and hopefully, RL won't become too much again, and I can get this next one out sooner. And you can sound as childish and gushing as you want! I don't mind! hugs and I hope to hear from you again!

**Opal Portia:** I'm glad you love the manipulative tendencies of Raven. I love it too. I think that's why most people hate her, but I think it's a really good character flaw (along with her selfishness) that she hides pretty well (except from Draco). And even then she's so humble about it, really. She knows she's manipulating people, but she doesn't really feel bad about it, because she thinks she's doing the right thing. But is she, is the question. Thank you for the review, Opal. I hope to hear from you again!

**jamesismysweetheart:** Wow…thank you so much for the compliment. I'm really flattered. Thank you for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

**Loofa:** Hmm…well, how do I react to this? I understand your dislike of Raven. In fact, one of my betas hates her. But I will disagree on the 'she's too effing mary-sueish'. Yes, in some ways she is, but she's NOT perfect by any means. If she was, everyone really _would_ love her, but they don't. And she may have 'fixed' her current situation, but that won't always be so. There's a lot more to Raven than I've been letting on in the story, so there's a lot the readers aren't seeing. She has character flaws. If she didn't, than she wouldn't be manipulative and selfish. But she is. Very much so. I'll be honest and say that there are times where I really don't like her either, but she is in there for a reason. And as to doing her bodily harm…well, we'll see. ;) And if there is any three-some stuff going on, it won't be perfect and happy. It doesn't quite work that way…especially with these three. I wish I could give you more reassurances, but that would give the plot away for everyone to see! I guess all I can say is, things may seem perfect or whatever on the outside, but there's a lot going on inside all the characters and their relationships that brings uncertainty into the balance. People like to pretend everything's okay when it's not. So, I hope you'll still read, as you've obviously gotten this far. It still may take a while for things to even begin to resolve themselves, but I hope it won't deter you. Thanks for your review.

**Thank you all, and please review!**


	15. 536,400 Seconds to Learn Confidence

**Updated 07.29.05 **

**Chapter Notes: **_Whew! It's finally done! First of all, let me say sorry (I seem to start a lot of chapter notes off that way…hmm) for taking so long. My trip was AWESOME and I had a blast. I actually was able to write a lot, but was unable to type it up until I got back, in which case I got really sick and couldn't do anything for the first five days I was back. So-_

_I hope this chapter satisfies your needs for a while…It's **60** pages long this time. I really don't know how they get so long…_shakes head _really. School is starting up for me again, and when time warrants, I will write, but I cannot and will not guarantee the next chapter being up soon._

**_There is a possibility that I will be reposting this chapter in a few days with _slightly changed_ wording/content. It will not effect the plot, but I have asked another friend to look over certain parts for me._**

_I'd like to thank you all, my faithful readers, for being so patient. I hardly ever get a review just telling me to update. Everyone is very polite about it, and for that, I thank you sincerely._

_Also, I really couldn't do this without my WONDERFUL betas. One of them needed to take a break for a little while, so she did not beta this chapter for me, but I wish her luck and love in this transition in her life, and I hope she will rejoin us soon!_

**Dedication: To Michelle, Erin and Toni, this chapter is for you.**

**Personal notes at the end for reviewers and betas.

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**THIS CHAPTER HAS AN NC-17 VERSION AT MY YAHOO SITE. SEE MY USER PAGE FOR THE LINK. CERTAIN SECTIONS OF THIS CHAPTER HAVE BEEN EDITED FOR CONTENT, AND IF YOU WISH TO READ THE FULL CONTENT, YOU MUST GO TO MY YAHOO GROUP. I CANNOT SEND YOU THE FILE, SO PLEASE DON'T ASK. THE EDITED CONTENT IS _NOT_ CENTRAL TO THE PLOT, BUT COULD BE CONSIDERED IMPORTANT IN RELATION TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN THE CHARACTERS, AND JUST _WHAT_ HAS HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM.

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Chapter XV – 536,400 Seconds to Learn Confidence

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Sunday, 5 October 2003, Mid Evening

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When Harry dropped Raven off at number four, he found himself wanting to kiss her again. _Really_ wanting to kiss her. So much so that he nearly turned his head when she gave him a quick hug goodbye.

Once she was inside, he stood there for a moment, his jaw clenched and his body trembling with tension. Breathing through his nose, he tried to calm himself, overcome with emotions and desires he was afraid to act on. After a few moments, he found himself releasing it all and falling into wretched sadness.

Sighing, he made his way off the porch and onto the grass, deciding to visit the cove rather than the beach—his most recent memories of that place were not pleasant. The weather seemed to agree, as the storm had followed Harry back from London. The sky was darkening, but the sun still peeked through the clouds, the tension that was building in the air, palpable. Harry wondered if it would ever break.

He spent the entire walk to the cove berating himself; berating himself for feeling like he did for Raven, berating himself for falling for her while she was in a relationship with Draco, and berating himself for wanting more contact with her, regardless. He couldn't get over the fact that he was indeed twenty-three, and as hard as it was to believe, he had never had a girlfriend, and he had hardly been kissed. He suddenly felt the effects of being cheated out of life—while all he had wanted was a normal, happy life, all he ever got was stranger and more painful than before, and he was stripped of his normal rights as a boy, as a teenager, as a man, and as a person.

Reaching the cove, he sat down at the cliff, dangling his legs and sighing in frustration and defeat.

He had to find something else—no—some_one_ else to focus his attentions on. But who, honestly? There wasn't anyone who wasn't already in a relationship and cared to know him. The real him, that is.

So here he was, left alone. And he was really fucking tired of it.

Sitting at the cove, his thoughts rounded to Draco, and what he would say. 'You're being pathetic, Potter. You have plenty of friends, and everyone loves you. Stop whining.' Oh, and, 'You ever think about Raven again, I'll kill you.' Or something like that.

Okay, so maybe he wouldn't say quite that. But the pathetic part, Harry was certain of. He _was _acting rather pathetic. But he couldn't stop the driving need that was taking over his body.

The need of companionship. The need of affection and love. The need to be touched. The need to be stroked. The need to be brought to such exhilarating heights as someone explored his body and brought him pleasure. The need to be bodily loved by someone, and bodily love that person in return.

His arousal now straining in his pants, Harry's mind brought forth images from the book he had browsed through earlier; of men and women's bodies intertwined. He found himself shifting back from the edge of the cliff and lying down, deftly unbuttoning his jeans and shoving his hand in them to relieve himself of the pressure in his groin. He moaned out load as he touched himself, images from the book and Raven's face and imagined body looming in his mind's eye.

The chirp of a nightingale registered distantly in his mind, and a skimming thought of where he was and just _whose_ 'thinking' place this was whirled his mind around, and he found his mental images changing. Draco's striking face and silvery piercing eyes entered the mixture, and the one little glimpse of the two males illustrated in the book came to the fore, as did the mental images he had had of Draco posing nude, and his hips bucked and he gasped.

The pressure was at the breaking point, and nearly had been when he started, and with two more rough strokes and semi-muffled groan, Harry came, Draco's smooth voice from nights before filling his inner ear.

"Do you scream, Harry?" 

Harry's thought was: _Oh god, I want to._

Slowly, he came down from his high, and taking his hand out of his trousers, he looked at the sticky mess on his palm and stringing between his fingers, musing what it might taste like. Scrunching up his nose at the odd thought, not quite sure where it came from, he took his wand out and muttered a quick '_scourgify_',sitting up and looking down at his unbuttoned jeans and feeling rather disgusted with himself.

_I can't believe I just wanked off in the middle of the woods._ _And I thought of Draco…god, he'd probably kill me if he ever found out…_

Not sure if wanking off really helped him or not, he stood, pocketing his wand and re-buttoning his jeans before heading home. The sun had just begun to set, and Harry's thoughts set with it; the forest darkening quickly around him with his mood.

* * *

When Harry walked in through the back patio door that evening, Ron immediately knew that something was wrong. 

He had been hanging out in the lounge with Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Seamus and Neville, when his best mate walked in, giving them all a half-hearted smile before heading upstairs without a word.

Ron shared a look with his girlfriend before they both excused themselves. The remainder of the group shared glances as well, and a worried look found its way onto Ginny's face.

Seamus put an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her red hair. "I'm sure he'll be fine, love. It's Harry."

"But with last night…I mean, he seemed so much happier today in London…I wonder what happened?"

"Probably nothing more than the usual," Luna said, her gaze settled on Neville, sitting next to her.

Ginny looked at the blonde with perplexity. "The usual?"

Luna turned her double-plaited head towards the other girl with a dreamy look in her eye. "Depression, loneliness, sexual frustration..."

Ginny's mouth dropped open and Seamus burst out laughing. His girlfriend turned to him and frowned. "Seamus, it's not funny! Harry's still having a hard time, okay? And he _is_ lonely," she turned back to Luna. "We should be supportive, rather than forgetting that anything's ever happened."

Seamus' laughter died down, and Neville nodded, kissing his girlfriend on the temple.

"It'll be four years come February," he murmured.

They all nodded, and Ginny cast a glance upward in a silent prayer.

* * *

Hermione cast a quick look behind her at Ron before knocking on Harry's door. She almost jumped back when it opened almost immediately, Harry's silhouette dark and ominous against the warm light of the room behind him. 

Harry just looked at them blankly and turned around without a word, leaving the door open behind him.

"What took you so long?" he said tonelessly, plopping down on the bed and kicking off his shoes. "I figured you would have tried to stop me from going up the stairs."

Hermione and Ron entered silently, Ron closing the door behind them.

Harry looked back up. "What? You're not going to ask what's wrong?"

Hermione frowned and said, "We were kind of hoping we wouldn't have to."

"Well, keep hoping," Harry replied, shrugging off his denim jacket and throwing it on his trunk.

"Harry," Ron started, "don't shut us out. _Please_. Let us help you."

"Well, you can't, so stop trying."

"Harry James Potter, stop being such a pretentious ass!" Hermione cursed, her hands on her hips. Letting out a calming breath, she offered in a softer tone, "Maybe you'd feel better if you'd at least tell someone. Even if we can't do anything, we'd at least like to know what's going on."

Harry looked darkly up at his two best friends. He didn't respond.

"Harry, mate," Ron almost pleaded, "What happened? Did…" he glanced quickly at Hermione, "did something happen with Raven?"

When Harry looked away, Hermione took the initiative and sat down beside him.

"You kissed, didn't you?" she asked softly.

There was a tense silence before: "No. And that's the problem."

"Problem?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "The problem. I…" He leaned back on his hands and stared up at the ceiling. "I wanted to."

"But you didn't want to, because she's Draco's girlfriend," Hermione stated.

"You're too smart, Hermione," Harry said. Nodding, he finished with, "Yeah."

"Well then," Ron said a bit hesitantly, "isn't that a good thing? That you didn't, I mean?"

Harry and Hermione both shot Ron harried looks.

"You're so insensitive, Ron," the girl said.

"What?" the redhead defended. "I just… I mean, I guess I just don't understand cheating on someone, is all. So shouldn't Harry be glad that he didn't kiss Raven, so she wouldn't have cheated on Malfoy, and Malfoy wouldn't have had to come kick his arse? Not saying he could or anything," he added quietly.

Harry shook his head. "It's not about that, Ron. I'm just sick of it." He stood and started pacing about the room. "I'm fucking tired of being alone, of _feeling_ alone, of wanting to have what _you_ guys have," he gestured wildly, "of what everybody fucking has except _me_!"

"Harry, mate, calm down."

Harry took a couple of deep breaths and moved around his bed to look out the back window.

"She's asked me to pose nude with Draco for pictures."

"What!" Ron exclaimed. Even Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"And I told her I'd do it."

While Ron was gaping like a fish, Hermione asked, "Raven wants you to pose nude…for pictures?"

"Yes." Harry replied.

"With _Malfoy?_" she clarified.

"Yes."

"And you've agreed to do it."

"Yes."

"Oh, Merlin, Harry…" Ron breathed.

"It's not that big a deal," Harry rationalised. "I've already posed for a painting, a few weekends ago."

"You did?" Ron asked, shocked.

Hermione cut in. "Harry, why didn't you mention this before?"

He shrugged. "I was kind of mad at you. Besides, you wanted to know what was going on, and this is it."

"Wait, why were you mad at us?"

"For talking about me behind my back. For talking to _Raven_ behind my back."

Hermione blushed. "We just wanted to make sure she wasn't using you Harry."

"I know. But I realised something that night. I was tired of letting others direct my life for me. I wanted to do something different, something…for a friend."

"So you let her paint you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Ron sighed heavily and sat down on the bed. "So you're feeling really frustrated because you like her, and you can't do anything with her?"

Harry bit his lip, turning around. "Yes, it's that. I just…I'm just feeling rather confused right now, and I'm not really sure where my life is going." He smiled. "I mean, look at you two, you're getting married in a few months."

Ron smiled and Hermione blushed. "That doesn't mean you still won't be a huge part of our lives, Harry," Hermione said.

He nodded, sitting. "Yeah, I know. That changed a long time ago, anyway. You guys have your own lives together now, and I just need to find mine."

Hermione cocked her head. "It sounds like you've already figured it out on your own."

The bespectacled man snorted. "Maybe. It's just harder than it sounds, is all."

Ron patted Harry on the shoulder. "You'll find someone, mate. And even if you don't, you'll find your way. Not everyone is meant to be with someone. Look at Snape. Or Dumbledore, for example. They seemed to have managed so far at this point."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You _want_ me to become an old coot or a greasy-potions master?"

Ron laughed. "No, mate. Merlin, no. I think more of either of them is too much for this world."

"Feeling better, Harry?" Hermione asked, brushing a lock of hair out of the man's face.

Harry sighed, nodding and smiling. "Yeah. Much. Thanks guys."

"Always, Harry. Don't keep things bottled inside, all right?" And she leaned forward to give him a hug.

He hugged her back and felt Ron embrace them all. Harry couldn't help but laugh and soon they were all giggling, feeling for all the world that they were younger, and back at Hogwarts, on one of those rare occasions when none of them felt threatened or the urge to do some amateur detective work.

It truly was a wonderful thing to feel like he had his friends back, if only for a while.

**

* * *

Monday, 6 October 2003, Late Afternoon

* * *

**

"Hey Harry, can I talk with you a moment?"

Harry turned around to Mikhail's call, giving Draco a pat on the back before walking toward his captain.

"Yeah, Mik?"

Mikhail gave Harry an intense look before saying, "Look, I know you think you played a horrible game on Saturday, but I just want you to know that I think you did your best. The Widgeons are tough, and you played well under the circumstances."

Harry blinked in humbleness. "Er…thanks, Mik."

Mikhail smiled. "And I think you played well today in our scrimmages. I was wondering if you wanted to go out from drink with me tonight? I want to talk to you about your probable career in Quidditch."

A look of confused shock placed itself on Harry's face. "Oh? Well, uh, I can't tonight, actually. I'm studying over at Draco's right after I shower."

Mikhail raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "Oh, okay. Well, do you want to go some other time?"

"Sure. Is Friday night after practise good?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then." Mikhail smiled brilliantly and patted Harry on the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the locker rooms.

Harry turned with Mikhail and saw Draco still waiting for him. Draco gave their captain a firm nod as he walked past, and waited for Harry to catch up. As Harry approached, he asked, "What was that about?"

Harry shrugged. "He just wanted to compliment my game on Saturday, and ask me out for drinks on Friday night."

"Oh. Friday, you say?"

"Yeah. He wants to talk about my professional career, apparently."

"Hm? I wonder if he's heard anything from scouts? You did disappear after the game, you know."

Harry blushed slightly, embarrassed. "Yeah. I know."

**

* * *

Tuesday, 7 October 2003, Early Evening

* * *

**

"I think I've figured out how to break him."

"You mean Harry?"

"Yes."

The two ex-Slytherins were sitting in Draco's room after Quidditch practice, winding down from a long day at school. Raven was laying on Draco's bed reading one of her books on photography, and Draco had just gotten back from his shower, still bare-chested and studying himself in his full-length mirror.

"Well?" Raven prompted when Draco didn't immediately elaborate.

"Sex. Keep his mind on sex. He'll be a lot more receptive to any ideas concerning it if his mind is on it all the time."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "I see. And how do you suppose you'll do that? Although I don't doubt his Gryffindor tendencies to be rather dense, I think he's going to notice that the only thing you want to talk about is sex."

"Did you just insult your beloved Harry?" Draco smirked.

Raven threw a pillow at him. "Oh, honestly, Draco. You know what I mean."

Draco tossed the pillow back and nodded. "Yes. Yes I do."

Draco paced back and forth a few times crossing his arms over his chest and nibbling on his right thumb. Suddenly he stopped and turned to his girlfriend, starting the conversation as if they hadn't just been talking.

"Raven, we need to do something about Potter."

Raven gave him an odd look but only said, "What exactly do you mean by that, love?"

Draco started to pace again. "Well, I think it's quite obvious that he's starting to like you."

Raven nodded. "I had noticed as much."

"And it makes sense, really."

Raven quirked an eyebrow. "Why do _you_ think so?"

"Well, he spends enough time around you, and you're probably the first girl to show an interest in him in ages. And unless Potter's an _extreme_ closet case, I'm assuming that he has no predisposition to think about guys in that sort of way. He has, in fact, told me that he doesn't think he is, though to me it sounds like he might not be sure. But anyway, it's becoming a problem, especially if I'm trying to seduce him. And the fact that he likes you is only making things more complicated."

"I know what you mean. I've had the same thoughts. I've actually been trying to distance myself a bit."

Draco nodded, still pacing. "So…we need to think of some way to get Harry to start noticing me as well."

The two Slytherins thought in silence for a moment before Raven's eyes lit up and _very_ devious smile played on her lips. "Harry's coming over today, right?" she asked.

Draco stopped pacing, a confused look on his face as he turned to look at the girl. "Yes…actually, he's coming over in about twenty minutes." He noticed the mischievous grin on the other's face. "Why do you ask? Have you thought of something?"

Raven tilted her head and sat up. "I'd like to think so."

"Well? Spit it out, woman."

Raven leaned forward a little, beckoning Draco closer with a finger. When he was close enough, Raven quickly snaked out a hand, catching Draco by the neck and kissing him hard, pulling him on top of her as she lay back onto the bed. Once Draco had gotten over his surprise, they kissed for a few moments before the flaxen-haired man pulled back, straddling her hips and holding himself up on his hands.

"I'm not sure I understand, love. How is kissing _you_ supposed to help me seduce _Potter_?"

But Raven only smiled roguishly. "You'll see. Just don't take off my bra." At Draco's rather puzzled look, she said, "People always want something they can't have, Draco. Trust me. You'll know what to do when it happens."

Draco just shook his head, but went back to kissing his girlfriend, reaching down to snake a hand under her shirt and caress her skin. He became so lost in touching her skin and progressing the degenerating state of their undress that he was quite startled when he heard Harry's voice and the creaking of the door opening as the Golden Boy stepped over the threshold.

* * *

When Theodore Nott answered Harry's knock on Number Three's door, the Seeker wasn't expecting to be allowed in. But he was, and instead of being asked to wait in the foyer, he was directed upstairs to Draco's room. Feeling nervous walking around Draco's dorm unescorted, Harry ascended the stairs quickly, noticing that the door to the blonde's room was slightly ajar. He didn't just want to barge in, especially if Draco wasn't out of his shower yet, or…if he was still dressing. So, gathering his Gryffindor courage, he knocked once on the door, unintentionally making it swing fully open, calling Draco's name. 

"Draco?"

But what he saw, what most definitely _not_ what he expected.

He saw a topless Draco, leaning over a black bra and panty-clad Raven, kissing her passionately on the bed. Draco broke the kiss when Harry had said his name, and now looked at Harry with a slightly shocked look, laced with a pink embarrassment suddenly colouring his high cheeks. But that was all that Harry managed to take in, before blushing like mad and moving to close the door.

"Oh god, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt-" he stuttered as he averted his gaze and moved away from the door. _Why the hell does this always happen to me…_

"Harry!" he heard Draco cry desperately. "Harry!" The door opened to a heavily breathing Draco, who looked out into the hall to find Harry, blushing madly and shuffling to the stairs.

"Malfoy-honestly, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, shut up, Potter, and get your soppy Gryffindor ass in here."

Draco's careless manner stunned Harry for a moment, and a moment was all Draco needed to reach out and grab Harry by the collar and drag him into the room, closing the door behind them.

Harry stood close to the door, avoiding looking in the vicinity of the bed, where one hopefully unnoticeable glance told Harry that Raven was still sitting there, legs crossed and leaning back on her hands, still only wearing a bra and knickers. If it were possible, Harry was sure that he would be blushing even harder.

"For Merlin _sakes_, Potter, _breathe_. You're as red as a tomato."

Harry took an unsteady breath in, and let it out. "Sorry, I just…this is rather embarrassing." Without looking at Raven, he said, "I'm sorry, Raven, I didn't mean…"

But she interrupted. "Stop saying you're sorry, Harry. It's fine. Honestly."

Although it took him a minute, after his quick thinking, Draco realised Raven was right. He had known _exactly_ what to do. And now all he had to do was see it through.

"Harry, why is it you won't look at Raven? Is she not pretty enough for you?"

Harry's head snapped up to Draco, who was standing near his desk. "I…er…no! Of course she's pretty enough! It's just…" his eyes darted around a second (avoiding Raven, of course) before fixing Draco with a confused expression. "I mean, you _want_ me to look at her? She's…she's _your_ girlfriend. I shouldn't be looking at her like that…"

But Draco only smiled. "So maybe you don't think about girls that way, then?"

"What? You mean…no! I'm not…gay…I just mean that she's your girlfriend…wouldn't it bother you if someone else saw her like that?" Harry asked with puzzlement.

"I'm still here, you know." Raven said from the bed.

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, still not looking at her.

Draco shrugged at Harry's question. "No, not really. I mean, she likes you; I know that. And it doesn't bother me. Besides, Harry, if you're ever going to lose your virginity, you're going to have to get used to seeing people naked." He was hoping Harry wouldn't notice the lack of 'girls' in his comment in lieu of being startled by the revelation that he knew that Harry was still a virgin. The Gryffindor predictability didn't let him down.

"What?" Harry squeaked. "How…how do you know that?"

"That you're still a virgin?" Harry nodded, his eyes wide. Draco smiled. "I have my sources. It seems that some of your little Gryffindor friends like to gossip about you a bit." Harry's brows furrowed at that, and he almost started to look angry, before Draco spoke again.

"So…why don't you look at her, Harry." Draco suggested.

"Huh?"

"Raven. Look at her." And he gestured to the other person in the room.

"You _want_ me to?" Harry asked timidly, still unsure.

"You wouldn't be standing here if I didn't."

"I can't believe I'm even thinking…" Harry muttered to himself. Still without looking, he asked Raven, "Do _you_ mind, Raven?"

"Not if it's you, Harry."

Gulping nervously, Harry breathed deeply. It wasn't like he didn't _want_ to himself; it's just…wasn't it wrong? Oh, fuck. If Malfoy _and_ Raven said it was all right…fine. So Harry turned his head to look over at Raven, who was only a few feet away, still sitting on the bed, leaning back on her hands.

And it wasn't some huge revelation, like he thought it might be. It was…kind of what he'd been expecting, but in a tangible form. He tried not to look too long, so it wouldn't seem as if he was staring. And as much as he found he liked the girl, he kept the mantra, 'She's a friend, just a friend, she's Malfoy's girl, friend friend friend friend friend,' going in his head, so as not progress his feelings any further. Or any lower.

Harry had been looking at Raven for no more than five seconds when he was startled out of his thoughts by Raven laughing and standing up. Grabbing her sweater and skirt, she pulled them on and took the short steps to Harry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek.

"Oh Harry, you're adorable." Harry flushed before she pulled away and stepped over to Draco, giving him a little hug and a kiss on the cheek as well. "I ought to go. I'll leave you two to your potions studying. Have fun…" she called as she swayed out of the room, leaving the two men alone.

"Bye love," Draco called after her, before turning to Harry. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Harry chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess not. Although I still don't understand why you wanted me to."

"Like I said, if you want to lose your virginity, you better get used to what you might be seeing."

Harry only grunted in response. It didn't quite seem like a sure-fire excuse, but Harry had long ago given up trying to fully understand the blond.

Now that they were the only two in the room, Harry took the chance to look around again. The room was basically the same as the last time he'd been there, still swathed in black and green, still an organised mess. In the corner to the left of the door, was Draco's desk, where Draco was currently standing, rifling through various stacks of paper, looking for something.

It was then that Harry noticed that Draco was still sans shirt, and that the candlelight from the desk illuminated his pale skin in an unearthly golden but beautiful way. As Draco's shoulders moved, Harry watched, fascinated at the differences of the other's man's torso. Did _he_ look like that? Is that why Raven thought he was good-looking? Harry glanced down at his own hands, and observed that his skin was much darker that Draco's…so why did Raven like him? Surely, he didn't look _that_ good naked. Well, not that Harry had seen anything else of Malfoy's, but if he looked that good on top… Harry quickly pulled himself out of that line of thought. But he knew that he himself wasn't all that good looking. Not even close to Draco. Raven hadn't added it into the painting she had done, but Harry had scars. Lots of scars. Most of them were tiny, barely noticeable crosshatch marks on his back. But there was this one…this one on his side…

Looking back up to Draco, he unconsciously uttered his thoughts out loud. "If only I looked that good…"

"What?" Draco asked, knowing he heard right, but asking just in case the meaning was different.

_Oh, shit, did I just say that out loud?_ "N-nothing." Harry said, trying to cover up.

But Draco turned to fully face the darker man. "No, you said something. Something about looking good."

Harry shook his head nervously. "No. I didn't say anything like that."

Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out and grabbing a hold of Harry's arm. He dragged the reluctant man over to his full-length mirror on the right side of the room, so that they were both standing in front of it; he then took his wand out of his pocket and flicked his wrist, the mirror growing to twice its original size in width. Throwing his wand on his bed next to Raven's forgotten book, he took a hold of his own belt, and started to undo it.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Harry sputtered.

"Undressing. You too, Gryffindor."

"_What?_"

"Undress. Down to your boxers. C'mon, it's not that hard."

"But…why?" Harry tried not to stare as Draco bent to pull his trousers down.

Draco rolled his eyes again as he stood and stepped out of his pants, kicking them away. "So we can look at each other. I want to see why you think you don't look good."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're joking…right?"

"Nope. Strip. Now." Draco said.

Looking off to the side, Harry sighed. _He's crazy. But, if you can look at Raven, you can do this, Potter. Just cover you scar with your arm, and it'll be over with quickly._ He set down his book bag before shrugging off his denim jacket, throwing it on the bed and saying, "You've gone completely mad, Malfoy."

Malfoy grinned brightly. "But you're complying, now aren't you?"

"Shut up." Kicking off his shoes, he bent down and slipped off his socks as well. Then he turned, so that his right side was showing to the Adonis, and pulled his sweatshirt and undershirt off in one fell swoop, tossing those on the bed as well. Then he unbuttoned his jeans, undoing the zipper, and after a quick calming breath, he slipped those off, kicking them aside. Keeping his left arm glued in front of him and holding it there by the wrist, he turned towards Draco, biting his lower lip in nervousness since he couldn't run his hands through his hair.

Draco watched in rapt attention as Harry stripped in front of him. Only the fear that the other man would see if he had become aroused stopped his groin from outwardly reacting. Otherwise…Draco was almost scared to admit that seeing the Gryffindor so…vulnerable… was egging on his aching need for contact with the man. It hadn't really helped that the only reason he wasn't getting satisfied at that moment was because of Harry, looking at it from either the immediate set of circumstances (Harry walking in on him and Raven), or the more long-term set, which involved him shagging Potter senseless just as soon as he could get the emerald-eyed man to get comfortable enough around him. And as far as the current circumstances were concerned…Raven was evil. But _so_ smart, and _so_ devious…she knew Draco well enough to know that he would figure out what to do when Harry 'accidentally' walked in on the two Slytherins progressively making out. And even if it might not have been exactly what she would have thought…it was working, and that's what counted.

Now, standing next to each other, clad only in boxers—Draco in black and Harry in dark blue—they turned to the mirror.

"Ok," Draco said, "Why don't you think you look good? Are you comparing yourself to me? Because that's not the way to go, Potter. Sure, I look good, but you do too. Just in a…different way."

Harry scowled at Draco's reflection. "Oh, that's comforting, Malfoy."

"Alright, look. It's all got to do with taste. We both have roughly the same physique, the same build, although you're a bit more muscular around the shoulders, see?" the Seeker said, gesturing to Harry's reflection. "Some people like that. But we seem to look so different because of our colouring. I'm really pale and flawless, with light blonde hair. You, on the other hand, are more tanned, with random freckles and dark brown hair."

"I _have_ eyes, Malfoy. And my hair's black, not brown."

"Sorry, black then. Like I said, it all depends on what you like. Some people like the brooding, darker man, while others like the blond aristocratic one." And Draco tossed his blond locks out of his eyes.

"I see you've never lost your flair for shoving your aristocracy in other's faces." Harry deadpanned.

"Oh, c'mon, Harry. That's not the point. What I'm trying to say is that we're both good-looking blokes, and we could have anyone we wanted. All it takes is a little confidence."

"Confidence, hmm?" Harry said mockingly, glaring at his own reflection.

"_Yes_. Like you. You're standing all wrong. It's one thing to be the shy type, because some girls like that. But even if they do, they don't want a pussy for a man. So stand up straight! And drop your arms to your sides."

Harry's eyes widened. "No!"

Draco looked at him, puzzled. "Why not? It's just us two in here, no one else will see you practicing."

"No…I just…don't want to move my arms."

"Why not?"

"That's not important. I just don't want to."

"Okay, now you've got my curiosity piqued. What are you trying to hide?"

"Nothing."

"Bullocks, Potter. What's wrong? Why won't you show me?"

"I just…don't want to, okay?"

Draco frowned, but the next second, he had a mischievous glint in his eye. "I know how to make you loosen up…"

"What?" was all Harry got in before Draco attacked his sides, trying to wrestle the other man.

Harry squeaked in shock, moving his right arm to defend himself, and his left arm up to push Draco away. Unfortunately, that left his side wide open for Draco to see.

"What on earth…Harry, what's this?" he kneeled and reached a hand out to touch Harry's abdomen, just above his boxers, where a large, serrated scar could be seen; whiter against Harry's bronzed skin, blemishing the dusting of soft dark hair that lay there. It ran from near his navel, all the way over to the edge of his pelvis.

"Don't!" Harry panicked, grabbing Draco's wrist, holding it in place just as the pale fingers brushed the blemished skin.

"Potter…Harry…who did this to you? How did you get it?" Draco looked up with worried eyes.

Harry sighed. "It's a war wound, Malfoy." He muttered bitterly. He hadn't noticed how worried the other had looked; too wrapped up in his own swelling anguish as memories he had managed to suppress for the past few weeks suddenly came back, full force.

Draco relaxed his hand in Harry's grip, which allowed him to press his palm flat against Harry's left side, right over the old wound. Harry jumped slightly at the contact, but allowed it, dropping his own hand to his side. Circling his thumb over the skin, Draco stood.

"Who did it? Do you know?"

Harry's eyes were lowered, but they moved up to look at Draco's face as his grey eyes watched his thumb's ministrations.

"Yes." Harry said lowly. "Your father."

Silver irises flashed up to deep jade, both full of immense pain and remorse. In an unexpected and impulsive move, Draco kneeled down again, leaning forward and brushing his lips over the jagged line that his thumb had been circling. "I'm sorry," he whispered against the skin.

Even though his stomach lurched nervously at the gesture, Harry grabbed a hold of the other man's shoulder, urging him to stand back up. "Malfoy…" he started once the pale man was on his feet again, "Draco…it's not your fault. It happened later. Just before the last battle."

"That was when he died, wasn't it? My father?" Draco wouldn't admit it, but his vision was getting fuzzy around the edges.

Harry's features contorted into pained grief. "Yes. I…I killed him."

Draco's breath hitched, and he blinked, the unacknowledged tears falling down his cheeks. Harry immediately lifted a hand and brushed a tear away with his thumb. "Oh gods, Draco, please don't cry…" Harry whispered.

Draco let out an unsteady breath. "No…it's not…" Draco caught Harry's gaze again; his eyes were blazing silver fury, a lightning storm surrounded by water. Fiercely, he said, "He should have been killed. After all he had done. And…it had to be you. You had to do it. I know. I understand. It couldn't have worked out any other way. Things happened they way they happened. Whether by reason, by chance or by choice. Like it was my choice to take the Dark Mark…" and he lifted up his left limb for Harry to see the underside of the forearm.

Harry looked down to see a faint, but pink mark in the shape of the Dark Mark on Draco's forearm. It wasn't quite a scar…just a leftover etching of the grotesque tattoo that used to be there. "…And to keep this scar as a reminder." Draco smiled wanly. "Just like you kept yours, but you got yours by chance, not by choice. And that's worse. You shouldn't have that scar. But I should have this one. I deserve to remember why I've changed. Why I am now the way I am. You, though…you shouldn't have to remember that. How much you sacrificed…" The blond chuckled softly, looking down at his upturned arm.

"Raven and Blaise have one too. Along with anyone else still left in Azkaban." He suddenly looked up at Harry. "Do you know how I knew you had finally killed Him, Harry?" The Gryffindor, afraid of speaking, only shook his head.

Draco took his hand briefly from Harry's side to brush his fingers along his own scar, before returning it to Harry's. Harry lifted his right hand to take a hold of the ex-Death Eater's arm, rubbing his thumb against the scarred skin. He looked to Draco, who had closed his eyes briefly at the contact.

Opening his grey eyes again Draco said, "It bled. It oozed poison and blood, until all that was left was this. This faint carving. I felt sick for days, while it all flushed out of my system. It was black and green and red, and it happened to all of us; Raven, Blaise and I…at the same time. That's how we knew. We knew that He was finally dead, and that you killed him."

Harry's breath hitched as Draco finished, and he found that his own vision was blurring. Using his left hand, he slipped his glasses off and tossed them on the bed, rubbing at his eyes to rid them of the obtrusive fluid. He locked gazes with Draco for a moment, before lifting the Adonis' left arm and pressing his lips to the scar, returning the Slytherin's gesture.

"I'm glad that this is the only mark he left on you," he breathed.

Without a second thought, Draco moved his arm through Harry's hand and around his neck, and slipped the one from his side to around his waist, pulling Harry into a hug, burying his hand in Harry's hair and his face in Harry's neck. Acting on impulse, Harry did likewise to Draco, holding him just as fiercely. They couldn't think about how it was supposed to be awkward, because it wasn't. It couldn't be, not any more, and it didn't feel that way either. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, both men stood there, locked in an equal embrace, forgetting entirely about their past history yet reliving it all at the same time, both unsure of what seemed to be a monumental step in their relationship.

Draco was the first to move; taking in a shuddering breath, he pulled back slightly and looked into Harry's wide viridescent eyes.

"Oh, Harry…I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suddenly grab onto you like that…"

But Harry, who was bewildered yet strangely centred, shook his head. "No Draco…it's fine. I…" But Harry found that he had nothing else to say. It _was_ fine. And that was that. He felt like…everything that could be said didn't need to be. Those gestures, the embrace…that was all that was needed.

And while Draco felt the same way, he also felt something else. Something greater than what he had been feeling around the dark-haired man recently, and it scared him. It wasn't just friendship; he knew that. Friendship was what he had been sensing between them the last few weeks or so, ever since the night Harry had first modelled for Raven. Since then, they had grown closer as companions, almost in secret, gaining more knowledge about each other, and the selves they had never been able to explore by themselves. Draco had become more emotional, or rather, more open to let at least Harry and Raven know what he was feeling, much to his chagrin most of the time. Harry had also become more open, but had begun to learn about his wilder side; intellectually exploring things and gaining more and more Draco-esque qualities than life had previously allowed him. And Draco was the one leading him on that journey. Raven had just opened the door of opportunity.

So now Draco had to face these increasing emotions; this ardour that he hadn't expected to ever feel towards the dark-haired man, let alone anyone other than Raven. But as much as it scared him, he knew what he felt. He wasn't afraid to admit it, even.

He was in love with Harry Potter.

Admitting it even in his head made strange and beautiful feelings swell inside of him. It was different from when he realised he loved Raven. That had been gradual; she was now a permanent fixture in his life, and he had slowly come to realise that all the things he liked about her, he loved about her. But with Harry…it just hit him. Just right now, when he kissed Harry's scar, and he had allowed Harry to see him cry, and watched as Harry kissed his own scar, and when he impulsively hugged him…he had been so dazed by his revelation that he sputtered utter nonsense when he pulled away from the embrace.

And he knew it, that he loved Harry, without a doubt. It was undeniable. But he also knew that he shouldn't feel this way. Not in the sense that it was wrong or bad to feel that way about Harry, but that it couldn't last. He loved Raven too. He was going to marry her and they were going to have lots of Slytherin children…right?

Right.

Which is why Draco was scared. Because he now realised just what Raven had been trying to get him to realise.

That Harry needed him. _Him_; _Draco_. And what Harry was only beginning to realise, even though Draco could plainly see it by looking into Harry's eyes, was that Harry needed someone to understand him completely and love him thoroughly. And the only person who was capable of doing that was Draco.

But because of that, it couldn't happen. Because Raven and Draco would eventually get married…and where would that leave Harry?

Alone.

And Draco couldn't bear the thought of that. Loneliness.

So, when the time came to tell Harry about his feelings, to let him share and be enveloped in Raven's and Draco's love, as he so needed, Draco knew he would have to be up front. To make it clear to Harry what he was getting into. That while Draco and Raven would love him always, physically, it couldn't last. That was, if Harry wanted to get into it at all.

"Draco? What's wrong?" Harry's soft voice filtered through Draco's whirling thoughts to his brain, startling him slightly.

"I…nothing, Harry. Something just occurred to me, is all." Draco finally looked away from Harry, painful as it was, and turned to pick up his trousers and put them back on.

"What?" Harry asked, sharply noticing how bereft he felt when Draco left his arms.

"I…I'm not sure if I'm ready to talk about it. I…need some time to think." When Draco turned back around, Harry stepped right up to him and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Draco, I…god, this sounds kind of an odd thing to say to you, but…if you need to talk about whatever it is, I'll listen."

Draco smiled softly, endeared by Harry's offer. "Thank you, Harry. When I'm ready…I'll come to you."

Harry beamed, and Draco felt his heart melt and clench a little more. Suddenly feeling very uncharacteristically embarrassed, although Harry wouldn't know why, Draco cleared his throat and said, "So, how about those potions notes?"

**

* * *

Wednesday, 8 October 2003, Mid Afternoon

* * *

**

"C'mon, you two! Smile!"

"Oh shove off, love. You've been taking pictures of us all afternoon."

"Raven, you should know that I hate cameras."

Raven pulled the camera away from her face, a wry smile on her lips. "They why'd you agree to let me take pictures of you?"

The two men lounging on the grass locked eyes for a moment; Draco with an amused smirk, and Harry with the stinging realisation of being caught in a lie he wasn't aware he told.

Raven smiled winningly. "I thought so."

Draco let out a long-suffering sigh, smiling a brilliantly fake smile up at Raven. Harry ducked his head in embarrassment.

Raven rolled her eyes, but snapped the picture anyway. Plopping down beside Harry, she pulled his chin up with her forefinger. "What's made you so camera-shy, love? If you're like this now, I'd hate to see how you are three days from now. Naked, if you don't remember. Though I thought we'd already sorted all that out last time…"

Harry looked at her through his fringe. "Try talking to Mr. Malfoy over here."

Draco whipped his head around. "Me? What do I have to do with it?"

"Let's see," Harry mused, looking to the sky. "You laughed at me when Lockhart forced me to take pictures with him, when I already didn't think I really deserved any special attention, not to _mention_ your reputable relationship with Rita Skeeter, who became, mostly, my own personal paparazzi, thank you very much."

"What? Oh," Draco laughed, "Beetle Skeeter. That's right. I nearly forgot! Information-starved animagus, she was. Is. Whatever." He dismissed the issue with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Rita Skeeter?" Raven asked. "That reporter woman?" She raised her camera again and adjusted her focus on a witch walking into the _Medi-Arts_ building.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "She hounded me constantly, twisting everything around, trying to deface me. And let's not forget Draco's love for giving her a few false stories of his own." Harry looked to Draco with a 'and I won't ever forget all that shit, you prat' look.

Draco appealed sweetly to the man sitting next to him. "Oh, Merlin, Potter. That was _nine_ years ago. Haven't you forgiven me yet?"

"Do you deserve my forgiveness?" Harry countered back.

Draco winced. "Ouch," he muttered. "Harry," he tried again, "things were different then. I hated you. I actually _like_ you now."

"Jeeze, thanks."

** click **

The men looked over to Raven, who was just lowering her camera from its pointed view in their direction.

"Thanks, love," was Draco's caustic remark.

"What? You guys were arguing. It was cute."

"I'll show you cute," Draco threatened as he launched himself across Harry's lap, trying to snatch the camera from Raven's hands.

"Hey!" she squealed, jerking out of reach and rolling out of the way. Standing, she ran barefoot in the opposite direction, across the grass and cobblestone of the courtyard, her dark hair and robes flying behind her.

Harry cried out in protest against Draco's heavy bodily assault on his lap, squeaking (in a very manly way, of course) when Draco unceremoniously pushed himself off Harry and bounded after Raven.

"Harry! Help me catch her!" Draco laughed over his shoulder.

Harry laughed in return, pushing himself up and taking off after the elusive ex-Slytherin girl as well.

* * *

Across the courtyard, Seamus, Ron and Hermione came out of the _Mixing Chamber_, talking amicably. Shouts and laughter echoed around the circle of buildings, and their attention diverted away from the conversation and to the line of three running just yonder. 

"Is that…Harry?" Hermione asked, watching the other trio dash around campus.

"Chasing after Malfoy and his girl?" Seamus said. "Yep, I'd say that's them."

"What are they _doing_?" Ron asked in bewilderment.

"Playing tag?" Hermione offered.

Seamus' face scrunched up and he shook his head a bit. "Nah, they be chasing after each other, I reckon."

Hermione and Ron's eyes met. "You know what, Seam?" Ron said before setting off again, "I reckon you're right."

* * *

After a much-too-long run around the courtyard and buildings, Draco finally caught Raven around the waist, whirling her around so that she landed half-on top of him when they fell to the ground behind Number One. 

"Oof! Gods, you're heavy!" Draco complained, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, shut up, Draco!" Raven replied, elbowing him in her efforts to get out of his grasp and playfully push more weight onto him.

"Harry, Harry! Take the bloody camera!" the blond gasped.

Harry, who was trying to stifle his laughter along with his slightly laboured breathing, leaned down to wrestle the small piece of machinery from the girl's hands.

"No! You can't have it!" Raven protested jovially.

She kicked and screamed like a petulant child, trying to keep Harry away from her, while Draco only held her down from behind tighter. Harry finally got past her poor defences and managed to sit down right on top of her, pinning her hips down, grabbing the camera from her easily and turning it back on her.

"Smile!" he said mockingly, taking a few pictures of his own. He managed to get a couple of Raven turning her face away and putting her hand up to block the view, another of Draco laughing from underneath her, and another of them settling down, she turning her face up to smile at her captor, and he smirking down at her.

Harry both smiled and winced at the affection passing between the two. It was sweet, but it still reminded Harry of his traitorous thoughts towards his new friends. He cursed in his mind, moving to get off of them. "Nice camera," Harry complimented.

"Thanks," Raven replied as she sat up. "It's actually one of Colin's."

"Really?"

Raven nodded as Draco stood, demanding, "Let me see that."

Harry handed it over, and Draco inspected the slightly foreign object with narrowed eyes, as he once might have inspected a nasty insect used for a potion.

"How do you make it work?"

Harry rolled his eyes and moved over to Draco's side, pointing out the shutter button, the film advancement lever, and the manual focus.

Draco looked at Harry suspiciously. "How do you know so much about cameras?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Raven chimed from the ground.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I _was _raised by muggles. When Dudley got one for Christmas one year, I had to listen to him drone on and on about how to use it whenever his friends came over. I'm not sure why he bothered telling anyone; he wouldn't let anyone else touch the stupid thing. He broke it a few months later."

"Dudley…the ridiculously fat cousin, right?" Draco asked, looking back at the camera in his hands.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm observant."

Harry was still puzzled, so Raven said, "We…were told a little about your relatives when we were in Sanctuary."

"Huh," Harry grunted in a non-committal way.

Draco looked up into black framed in green. "Does that bother you? That we know that?"

Harry shrugged. "It's in the past. I haven't heard anything about them since I was seventeen, and I really don't care too."

"It sounds like they were terrible to you," Raven murmured.

"It could have been worse."

"I think it made you humble," Draco put in. The two men shared a look for a moment, a strange acceptance passing between them. _No matter what our heritage and upbringing, we are who we are now because we want to be. We overcame._

"You need to find something to focus against the background," said Raven, breaking the tension and standing up on Draco's other side.

Draco raised the camera to his face. "Well, love, why don't you go stand over there in front of the trees for me then?"

Raven stepped away from the blond. "Oh no. There's a reason I'm always on the other side of the camera, Draco."

"Then why'd you let me take a picture of you just a minute ago?" Harry asked with a wry smile.

Raven paused for a fraction of a minute, realising she got caught in her own trap. But she still protested. "Draco was holding me down, though! What was I supposed to do?"

"Go on, get in front of the camera," Draco prompted.

"But I-" Raven started, before Harry bodily moved her in front of Draco and stepped away.

"There ya go."

Raven glared at her boyfriend. "I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, love. Now, smile!"

Instead of smiling, Raven grabbed the neck of her red jumper and pulled it up over her mouth and nose. "No," came her muffled voice.

Draco sighed and took a few pictures anyway. "Harry, why don't you go into the picture with her. Maybe then she'll loosen up."

"What?" Harry looked at Draco with shock in his eyes.

Draco lowered the camera and sent an insistent look to the other man's green eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped over to Raven's side and put a hesitant arm around her shoulders. Raven took her jumper off her face and relaxed into Harry, smiling up at him.

Draco took another picture.

In fact, he took a lot more; before Raven finally snagged the camera back from him, only to load a new role of film into it and snap even more pictures of the two guys, much to their chagrin.

**

* * *

Thursday, 9 October 2003, Early Afternoon

* * *

**

"Luna, does this aura-based diagnostic conclusion make sense to you?" Harry asked of his table companion.

The blonde looked up from her latest scribblings for her father's magazine, her oddly-shaped earrings glinting in the torchlight.

Taking the paper from Harry, she skimmed the words, her face becoming thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose so, but are aura-readings really that predictable?"

"Predictable? What do you mean?"

"Well, I think it's quite obvious," said Luna serenely, "that your conclusion is correct. How else could it be?"

Harry was still trying to decide if she was insulting his intelligence, or if she was just dismissing the difficult nature of aura-reading when someone stepped up to the table.

"Hi Harry."

"Oh, hey, Draco."

Draco turned his head and took in Luna's pale hair and eyes. "Loony Lovegood. How are you doing?"

Luna turned her protuberant eyes on Draco, and they lost some of their dreamy-quality. "Not quite so loony anymore, but fine, thank you." She returned to her work for _The Quibbler_.

Draco raised his eyebrows. Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Draco…"

"Didn't mean to insult," Draco said glibly, ignoring the warning. "Harry, would you like to study with me, or are you and Lovegood here attached at the hip?"

"Er…"

"Go ahead, Harry. I'm almost finished here, and then I need to go to the owlery."

"Okay. Thanks for your help, Luna."

She only waved him away, scrawling like mad on her parchment.

Harry quickly gathered his things, following Draco to their usual table near the back.

"I didn't realise you and Lovegood were friends," said Draco as he sat down.

Sitting down himself, Harry said, "Since sixth year, mostly. I knew her in fifth, but thought she was a little odd, myself. Didn't really get to know her until her and Neville started dating a few years ago."

"Longbottom and Lovegood? Hmm… Well, I hope they're doing wonderfully."

"They are, and don't sound like you're so interested, Draco. I know you don't give a crap about them, any more than you give a crap about Ron and Hermione."

Draco snickered and nodded. "Yes, yes. You're right. I don't care. But I'll try not to insult any of them on your behalf. At least not in front of you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You are an absolutely horrible person, you know that, Draco Malfoy?"

"I take pride in it, actually."

Harry chose to keep his mouth shut, falling into silence with Draco as they got to work on their various projects.

A heavy book slamming on the table between them a minute later surprised them both out of their collective silence. Jumping back, they both looked up to see Raven, looking smug and authoritative.

"Just wanted to drop this by for you two to read. Thought you might find it helpful."

Harry's eyes were glued to the book, and he flushed nearly scarlet, recognising it immediately. Draco frowned and took the book, flipping through it with something akin to confusion lacing his features.

When he looked up at Raven with bemusement, she leaned down close to Draco, whispering, "Chapter thirty might be of some…special assistance." And with a wink, she whirled around and walked away.

Draco slammed the book shut and shouted at her retreating back, "Just because we haven't had sex yet, doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing!"

Harry simultaneously found himself asphyxiating, turning redder than he thought possible, and eagerly he buried himself under the table.

Draco looked over. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Hiding from embarrassment. I _can't believe_ you just said that!"

"What? It's true…Raven and I haven't-"

"_Draco Malfoy_!"

Draco's attention was now averted upwards, to the snarling face of the librarian, Madam Peabody. Normally a mild-tempered, sweet older lady, her current countenance could only spell harm and sure death for the young aristocrat before her.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asked innocently.

"How _dare_ you disrupt the sanctity of the library with your crude and audacious comments! And—is that Harry Potter beneath the table?" Harry slowly crawled out, his face still flushed, and the look of knowing one's imminent doom written all over his visage. "Yes, and _you._ I can't believe you're hanging around with such a crude young man. Now both of you, out!"

Draco frowned at Madam Peabody's obvious insult, but one slightly murderous look from Harry sent him packing his things quietly, following Harry out, the book Raven bought under his arm. The other patrons either snickered or watched wide-eyed as the two men made their way out.

Once they were outside, Draco was going to suggest reconvening at Harry's, since it was closer, when a sudden snort of laughter escaped Harry's throat, and the dark young wizard started chuckling uncontrollably.

"Potter? Have you gone mad?"

Harry shook his head and wiped his eyes behind his glasses. "It's just…Madam Peabody…do you think she was channelling Madam Pince for a moment there? I've never seen her so…"

"Scary?" Draco pitched in, a chuckle rising in his own throat.

Harry nodded. "Hm-hmm. God…I know it's not really funny, because I'm still as embarrassed as all hell, but the look on your face…"

Draco smirked. "At least I wasn't hiding under the table like some silly little schoolgirl."

Harry shrugged and replied as if disgusted, "What do you expect when you shout something like _that_ in public?"

"I expect you to question me about my numerous sexual exploits up in your room, and then pick over this book with me, in hopes of finding out why Raven gave it to _us_ to read." Draco pointedly said, taking purposeful steps towards Number One. Harry didn't need to know that Draco already had a good idea why Raven had given them the book, he just needed to read the book, and become familiar with what he should have been doing this entire time; getting laid.

"Now, come on, Potter, this book won't be getting read by itself."

"Draco! Good lord, have you no shame?"

"Of course not! What do you take me for? A bloody Gryffindor?" Draco turned back and smiled devilishly at Harry, who was trailing behind him.

"But what about our homework?"

"Screw homework. This is _much_ more educational!"

Harry sighed in defeat, following Draco into Number One and up to his room.

"I really don't want to know about your sexual exploits, Draco," Harry said as he set his stuff down on top of his trunk, removing his robes to reveal his muggle clothing.

"Good, 'cause I'm not talkin' about them." Draco set his things down as well, flopping down on the edge of Harry's bed with the book on his lap. Kicking off his shoes, he tucked his feet beneath him and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him down onto the bed beside him. "Okay, let's crack this thing open. Nice cover, by the way. This is muggle, no?"

Harry spared a disparaging look for the off-white cover, elaborately but artistically illustrated with over-lapping pictures of bodies intertwined; male and female mingling with and without their own gender. _A Fully Illustrated Guide to Sex of All Forms_ was written in a scarlet, scrawling script across the top.

"Yeah, it is," he answered.

Draco opened the book, flipping to the table of contents. "Wow…quite extensive… And it's broken up into three sections: Tools and Toys, Hetero-Erotica, and Homo-Erotica…"

"Draco, we really don't have to look at this…"

"Don't be silly, of course we do. Remember? You've got to get used to what you'll be seeing and doing when you start having sex. I won't forgive myself if I find out your first time was an embarrassing experience. Now let's see…should we start from the beginning or go on to chapter thirty, like Raven suggested? Chapter thirty…chapter thirty…" Draco murmured under his breath, thumbing through the pages, stopping to look at pictures that caught his eye, and so on.

Harry blushed awkwardly, countering, "Who says it'll be embarrassing? And why do you care about my sex life so much anyhow?"

"We're friends, you pillock. I'm _supposed_ to care." He stopped at a particularly interesting illustration including a male and female using a few different devices such as harnesses and handcuffs. "Ooh, look at this one. It looks more like muggle torture…are you sure this is a sexual position?" Draco asked, cocking his head sideways as if that might help the picture make more sense.

Harry barely glanced over before replying in a mock tone, "How would _I_ know. I'm the _virgin_ here, remember?"

Draco looked over to Harry and bumped his shoulder. "Oh, honestly, Potter. You're not going to learn anything if you don't look at the bloody book. Now tell me, what do you think?"

Harry held in his breath and looked at the picture.

"Looks painful," he said.

Draco nodded. "Yes, I think so too…though I suppose some people might be into that. Could be interesting."

"Sure," said Harry, disinterested.

"Oh, and this one…" Draco said, backing up a few chapters, "This one is pretty common, Potter, so pay attention."

Harry reluctantly looked back over, and saw a woman on top of a man, her head thrown back in pleasure. He couldn't _believe_ he was actually looking at this book…

"Now it says here, to '_be careful about the movement in this position…it's much different than when the man is on top, seeing as the angle and the range for movement are more limited and the woman has more control over the pacing_.' Hmm…good to know. Moving on…"

The book now had Harry's rapt attention; though he'd be loathe to admit it. Draco kept up his one-man commentary.

"And they have tips on keeping an orgasm at bay, making it last longer and be more fulfilling. Wow… Tantric Sex… I'll have to look into that…"

Harry blushed furiously.

Then there was the section on homo-erotica.

"Ah, chapter thirty…" Draco murmured, as he turned the page. "Homo-erotica? I wonder why…" But he never finished his sentence, which left Harry to wonder what he was going to say. However, Draco started reading the introduction to the third section before he could ask about it.

"_Homosexual sex is, in it's base form, no different than heterosexual sex; two or more people engaging in foreplay, oral sex and/or intercourse. But its experience can be an entirely new and exciting thing, for two reasons, which are inter-related._

_The bodies of men and women are, by design, meant to fit together. And in a very biological sense, this will always be true. But that does not destroy the right of two individuals of the same gender to have sexual relations with each other, and there are ways around the 'normal' idea of sex that heterosexuality contains, that are just as pleasurable._

_Women and men know their bodies better than anyone, and therefore, can please their partner with the first-hand knowledge of how something might feel. However, personal choice can influence this experience just as many other things can, including previous experiences with a particular technique or position._

_This section discusses and illustrates the intimacies between couples and multiples of individuals of the same sex, giving tips and guides on how to make one's experience much more pleasurable, even if one is unsure where to start._"

Draco looked up at a red-faced Harry. "Sounds interesting. Do you want to… Harry, are you all right? You look a little flushed."

Harry took a deep breath before mumbling, "I'm sorry Draco, I just… I'm having a hard time processing it all."

"Oh? Well, do you want to start back at the beginning, or-"

"No…that's fine. I guess… Is sex really that complicated?"

Draco looked blankly at his friend. Then he chuckled. "No, Harry. It's not, really. Most of this stuff is kind of instinctual, you know? You just do…what comes naturally, I guess. Different people have different tastes, so it depends on who you're with."

"Oh."

"Better now?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Draco studied his profile for a moment before asking, "Is there anyone you fancy, Harry?"

Harry immediately started shifting in his seat. "No…not really…"

Draco smiled. "You liar. I can tell. Now who is it?"

"I told you, no one."

Draco kept pressing. "No, you can't fool me, Harry. It's Raven, isn't it?"

Harry stiffened, if only for a second, but a second was all Draco needed, and he pounced on it.

"Ha! I knew it!" He gave Harry a firm pat on the shoulder. "It's all right, Harry. I don't mind."

"Y-you don't?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really, no. I know there's no possible way you could steal her away from me, and I'm not just talking about your lack of gumption to do so, either. _No one_ can resist _me_," Draco boasted, grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You are the most conceited ass I know, Malfoy."

Draco put a reassuring arm around Harry. "Good. Maybe some of it will rub off on you. But seriously, I don't blame you, and I've been suspicious about it for a while now. She's a very beautiful woman, and she has a very magnetic personality. I think if most men were blind, they'd still want her. It's just a good thing most of the guys around here are taken, and know that I'd hex them to useless examples of the male order if they tried anything. And that was even _before_ we started dating."

"That's _so _reassuring, Draco."

"Hey, like I said, don't worry. With you, I don't mind. Not sure why." He shrugged. "Now, back to this book."

Harry let out a breath, feeling rather resigned to his role as a non-threatening male.

Draco turned the page to an illustration of two men, one on his back and the other kneeling over him.

"Looks no different than a man and a woman," Draco commented.

"I think a different hole is used, though, Draco." Harry stated wryly, looking over his shoulder.

Draco looked up. "And I thought we didn't know anything about sex?"

Harry blushed. "I don't. I just…assumed, is all."

"Uh-huh…" Draco hummed, unconvinced. "It talks about lubrication and…flavoured varieties? Hmm…flavoured? Like strawberry or something?" Draco asked, musing out loud. Harry just stayed silent, unsure of what to say, if anything.

"It's really too bad these aren't wizard's drawings…at least I'd be able to tell better what they were doing," said Draco, undeterred by Harry's silence.

Draco flipped the page; an illustration of one man kneeling in front of the other, while the one behind obviously was inside the other, both of their faces contorted in pleasure.

"What do you think of this one, Harry? Kind of animalistic, though I think I saw something similar in the other section."

Harry blushed again, the stark reality of what he was looking at and who he was with sending a pleasurable scare through him. _No! Don't think about it…it'll only make it worse. Once was enough. A fluke. It doesn't need to happen again, especially when Draco's sitting right next to you!_

Harry shifted away slightly. "Yeah," he garbled. "Animalistic. But…it looks all right. Um…they make it look like it feels good."

Draco lifted a pale eyebrow. "It's a drawing, Harry. Of course it's going to look like it feels good." He snickered. "I bet you'd be the one on bottom."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "I would not!"

"Yes you would. I bet you'd be the little submissive virgin, wouldn't you?" Draco taunted.

Harry barely took a beat to make a comeback. "And _I_ bet you _couldn't _take it up the arse, you'd be squealing too much like a nancy-boy," Harry countered.

Draco's eyes narrowed to calculative slits. "Is that a challenge, Potter?"

Harry blinked blankly for a moment before saying carefully, "Not unless you want it up the arse, Malfoy." _Did I just _say_ that?_

Draco smirked, amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps another time, Potter. I'm educating myself."

Harry sagged in embarrassed relief and rolled his eyes at the same time, shaking his head at Draco's brutal audacity and ability to glide smoothly in and out of any topic of conversation.

Draco turned the page to a diagram illustrating the inside of the male reproductive system, which pointed out the prostate, and it's role in male homosexual intercourse.

"Oh…so that's why it would feel good to have something shoved up your ass," Draco mused, intrigued, shrugging off his robes.

"_Draco_… Jesus…" Harry sighed, flopping back on the bed.

"What?" Draco asked, standing to put his robes by his bag and to flop, stomach down, on the bed next to Harry. "I mean…I always wondered, and now I know."

"But still, must you be so vocal about _everything_?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to know how vocal I could get?"

Harry looked over at his friend with disbelief in his eyes. Staring a moment at the mischievous glint in the grey, he finally turned away, muttering in exasperation, "I don't _want_ to know…"

"Pity," was Draco's soft reply.

"Why?" Harry asked, moving onto his side, facing Draco. "You actually _want_ to do something with a guy?"

Draco shrugged. "Depends on what this book says. I'm not primarily partial to guys, though, so…" _Don't let him think you're not interested, Malfoy, but don't scare him away either…_ "Either way, I think it'd be an interesting experience. Sex is an interesting experience."

Harry raised his eyebrows in question, but decided to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being. He and Draco turned back to the book, looking at the pictures in interest or confusion, raising their eyebrows here, or swallowing embarrassedly there, Draco reading the captions and tips while Harry looked on in silence.

They were just sniggering at a rather interesting picture of three girls together when there was a knock on the door.

"Quick!" Harry whispered, "Hide the book!"

"Why?" said Draco, confused.

"Just…because!"

"Harry? Are you in there?" The door opened a crack, to reveal Hermione's pretty face. "Oh, hello, Malfoy."

"Granger," the blond replied, hiding a snicker at Harry's bodily attempt at hiding the book from Hermione's eyes.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Well, Granger-"

"Nothing! Ahem. Nothing, Hermione, really. Was there… something you wanted?"

Hermione blinked. "Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to come with everyone to Celestine's for dinner. You could come too, Malfoy, if you wanted."

Draco sat up and turned to the door. "Thanks for the afterthought, Granger, but I'll have to pass. I'm a little busy learning about se-" But he was abruptly cut off by Harry's hand grabbing him firmly across the mouth and it being held there by Harry slipping Draco into a head-lock.

"Uh, I'll…I'll have to pass too, Hermione. We're pretty busy, studying and all. We'll just make some sandwiches later."

Hermione's look of surprised bemusement didn't last long as an inkling of suspicion crept into her mind. "Okay," she said knowingly. "Have fun, you two."

"Oh, we will," Harry reassured her. "Now go, have fun."

The second Hermione shut the door, Harry released Draco from his hold.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you were doing, Malfoy?"

Draco rubbed his long neck gingerly. "I believe I was just letting Granger know what I was busy doing. I never mentioned anything about you."

Harry scowled. "That's not the point! Do you deliberately like embarrassing me?"

Draco smirked. "Of course. You turn this lovely shade of rose when you're mad or embarrassed. Quite amusing to see, really." He rubbed his mouth. "You didn't have to grab me so hard, you know."

Harry groaned in exasperation. "I hate you."

"Oh? Well, then I suppose we'll just have to go back to the way things were; you hating me, me hating you, a never-ending battle of…well, it won't be wit, because I'm the only one possessing that, here."

Harry growled and punched Draco on the arm, hard. "Shove it, Malfoy."

"Ooh, see, you just proved my theory right, Potter. Not much of a comeback. And don't hit me." He punched Harry back.

Harry smirked, just before tackling Draco down onto the bed, punching and grabbing and pulling wherever possible.

"Watch the hair!"

"You're such a bloody ponce."

"I am not!" Draco squawked in protest, trying to push Harry off of them. He kicked out, knocking the book off the bed. The sound startled Harry, who fell off the bed in the other direction, dragging Draco with him.

"Ow!" Harry cried out as his head hit the floor. He reached up and rubbed the back of his skull, wincing. "Thanks a lot, Malfoy."

"It's not my fault you're scared by the sound a book makes hitting the floor."

Harry glared up at Draco, who was kneeling directly over him, their faces a few inches apart.

And that was how Ron found them when he came up to investigate the noise just before he left for dinner.

"Harry, Malfoy, are you all…" The redhead stopped, trailing off as he saw the situation in front of him. "Oh…sorry to interrupt…" he said slowly, backing out of the room.

"Ron, wait!" Harry called, moving to sit up, pushing Draco back on his haunches.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be down in a second to go to dinner. Wait for me?"

Ron smiled softly, nodding. "Sure. Bye Malfoy. Unless you're coming?" He said the last almost disparagingly, but managed to pull off civility.

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Harry beat him to it. "Oh, no. _You_ are going home," he said to the flaxen-haired young man. "I think I've had enough of you tonight already."

Ron and Draco both raised their eyebrows, each seeing the double meaning of Harry's words, who was oblivious, as always.

Harry stood, grabbing his jacket and throwing Draco his cloak. Draco gathered his things quietly, mildly amused and yet still somewhat hurt by Harry's attitude that evening. Tying up his shoes, he looked up to find Harry and Ron waiting for him to finish, so they could escort him downstairs.

_I see that the trust still runs freely around here, _he thought sarcastically.

He followed Harry down and out the door, waving a silent good-bye to him as he walked away with all of his closest _friends_, a group Draco didn't really feel he had the right to try and be a part of.

_Gryffindors, the lot of them. They'd drive me mad within the hour. Oh, and can't forget Loony, the Ravenclaw._ He sighed, arriving at Number Three. _It's all for the best, I suppose. No need to work myself up over it. It's the way it's always been._

But then a sort of devious thought occurred to him.

_But it doesn't always have to be that way…

* * *

_

When Harry returned from dinner, he was beat and agitated, from the not-so-subtle looks Hermione and Ron were giving him, to the realisation that he never did finish his homework, to the slightly worried glances from Ginny, to the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about that damn book. And Draco.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair and got dressed for bed. Climbing in, he was just about to extinguish his last candle when he realised that Draco had never taken the book with him.

Sitting up, he peered over the edge of the bed; almost pleased to see the book, face down, on the floor next to the window.

Grabbing it, he sat back, turned it over and studied the cover. He fingered the scarlet lettering on the front, musing to himself.

He opened the book, idly flipping through the pages as Draco had earlier, stopping at interesting pictures and re-reading some of the tips. When he got to the third section, he hesitated, but ploughed on ahead, figuring if he was going to learn about it, he might as well learn about it all.

But he kept finding himself going back to those first few illustrations that he and Draco looked at—of the two men, in the throes of passion.

He found himself rubbing his arousal before he knew it, getting lost in the images running through his mind. By his own innate magic alone, a blond and brunette replaced the black and white illustrations on the page, and suddenly the picture was moving, and even though Harry tried to refuse the image in front of him, he was already coming, feeling wonderful and wretched at the same time.

_Oh Merlin, what's happening to me…? Why do I keep thinking about Draco?_

**

* * *

Friday, 10 October 2003, Mid Evening

* * *

**

Harry sat a little nervously on a bar stool while he waited for Mikhail to show.

"Waiting for a hot date?"

Harry looked up from his butterbeer. "Ah, no, Celestine. Just my Quidditch Captain. He wanted to talk to me."

"About your future…" said a mysterious sounding voice in Harry's ear, hot breath caressing the sensitive skin.

"Ah!" Harry jumped and turned abruptly in his seat to find Mikhail standing directly behind him.

Mikhail chuckled. "Two Devil J's Blood on ice, Cel."

"Comin' right up, Mik."

Harry rubbed at his ear, feeling strange tingles down his left side. "Merlin, Mik, you scared the shit out of me," he scolded.

Mikhail patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry, mate. Are these okay?" Taking the deep red drinks from Celestine, Mikhail led Harry to a small circular table near the back.

"Yeah, but I'll probably only have one. I still can't hold my drink too well. Especially that one."

Mikhail chuckled. "I probably should have asked first, sorry."

"No, that's fine. I don't mind it every once and a while."

They sat down, and Mikhail said, "You did good in practise again today, Harry."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought I sucked."

"Harry, you're not giving yourself enough credit. You're a superb Seeker."

Harry finished off his butterbeer and picked up his J's Blood, letting the stinging sweet liquid burn down his throat. "That may be so, Mik, but you know I'm tired of playing all the time. Why not give Draco a chance. You've seen him out there. Don't tell me you don't see it."

Mikhail sighed. "Of course I see it. And I agree with giving him a shot next game."

Harry perked up. "Really?"

Mikhail smiled. "Of course. But we're not here to talk about Draco."

"We're here to talk about me, aren't we?"

"Yep. And you're future in Quidditch."

"What have you heard?" Harry leaned back in his seat with the air of someone listening to business propositions.

Mikhail relaxed a bit as well, but excitement still shone in his dark eyes. "A lot, actually. When you disappeared last Saturday, I had scouts from Puddlemere, Wimbourne, and Montrose come up to me, asking about you. And your plans after graduation."

Harry frowned slightly. "And what did you tell them?"

"That I didn't know for sure, but I hoped that you had every intention of going pro." Mikhail took a sip of his drink.

"Hmm." Harry looked thoughtful.

"Should I not have said that?" Mikhail asked, setting his drink down.

"No, no. I've been thinking about it, Mik. I mean…you know I've been studying medicine on the side, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm just not sure if I want to continue on with an apprenticeship, or spend a few years doing pro Quidditch. It's only a little bit longer before I'm out of my prime."

Mikhail nodded. "Understandable. I didn't know what I wanted to do after Hogwarts, so I came here to study Spell Creation and Arithmancy. After a few years of dabbling at my father's law-firm, that is. But I've always loved Quidditch, and now I'm Captain. I've had a few offers, but again, I know that I'll need the knowledge to keep a steady income whenever my prime is up. Assuming I decide to go pro"

"So you haven't decided?" Harry asked, sipping on his drink.

Mikhail shook his head. "Nope."

Harry bit his lip. "My friend suggested that I play Quidditch for a while, then take an apprenticeship as a medi-wizard."

"Smart friend."

"Yeah…" Harry mused. He finished off his drink, and hailed one of Celestine's workers over.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Oh, hey, Owen, I didn't know you worked here."

Owen Cauldwell shrugged. "Gotta get some knuts from somewhere to help pay for school. I only started a few weeks ago."

"Ah. Well, I'd like a butterbeer, please, and Mikhail, do you want another?"

"Devil J's Blood, yes, please."

"A butterbeer and J's blood, Owen. Thanks."

Harry could already feel the drowsy effects of the J's Blood start to work on his mind and body. It was designed to make you feel euphoric and sleepy, as if one of the royal vampires had seduced you into their chamber of sensual bliss and nightmares. Harry had only had a few in his life, preferring to keep his head a bit more clear and awake than the drink offered.

Turning back to Mikhail, he asked, "So only those three? Puddlemere, Wimbourne, and Montrose?"

Mikhail leaned forward. "What? Were you expecting more?"

Harry grimaced. "No. I'm glad there were only three. Too many offers would have had my head spinning."

"Well, there's sure to be more." Then Mikhail leaned in further, lowering his voice so Harry had to lean forward as well. "Though I think Puddlemere actually wants you to replace the Chaser they're losing after this season."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Mikhail nodded. "Yeah. I think they think a bit too highly of themselves, and are probably willing to take a first-class Seeker and give him a damn Quaffle, rather than chuck their current Seeker out and replace him and their Chaser properly."

"Interesting."

Their drinks arrived, and Harry's head started to clear again after taking a few sips of the warm, sweet drink.

"So, if I were to go pro, where do you think I should go, Mik? Based on the offers given to me so far."

"Hmm… Well, the Magpies are by far the best team, with Puddlemere behind them. Their League wins are phenomenal, and I think they're in for their third European Championship this year."

"Yes, they are quite skilled."

"You'd be working with the best, I think. I mean, there are good players on all the teams, but the reason the Magpies always win is because they really act like a team. And the can adopt new players easily. Which is actually what made me think we should start up the JV team. To integrate player mobility and style."

"You thought that up?"

"Yeah, do you remember the year you guys came in? I had just been made captain, and there were so many new people who were really pretty good, but we couldn't fit them all in. So, I made a JV team, who would help with drills and scrimmages, and hopefully hone their skills enough to actually play in the games."

"Like Ron."

"Yeah, Weasley is my first success on that part. Not to mention we needed a new Keeper as it was." Mikhail smiled, tipping back his glass.

Harry nodded in thought. "Well, the Wasps never seemed to push themselves very hard, as far as I can tell. Though they are formidable…compared to some of the other teams."

"Maybe you could whip them into shape, Harry. I think even a horrible team could win, with you as their Seeker."

"What can I say, it's just too easy." Harry joked.

"See? You sound like Eunice Murray from the Magpies already."

Harry chuckled. "Well, I guess I'll just have to see what they want to offer me exactly, and we'll see what happens."

"I don't think Puddlemere's going to offer much. Especially if they plan on giving you the red ball as it is."

"It isn't about the money. Or the fame. It's about playing a game I love, with people I like and get along with."

Mikhail studied Harry for a moment. "Smart, you are."

Harry shrugged. "Well, I'm pretty sure just about every team will come running once they hear I might be looking. Can't let anyone else get the Saviour of the Wizarding World," he intoned somewhat sarcastically.

His companion frowned momentarily before finishing off his drink. "I think I'd like a butterbeer before we head out, myself."

"You can finish off mine, I'm not going to."

"Really? Thanks." Mik reached across and took the proffered bottle, chugging the last half quickly.

They both stood, Mikhail pulling out a little pouch and placing a few coins on the table. Walking out, they waved good-bye to Celestine and Owen, before stepping out of the golden warmth of the café-turned-pub and into the midnight blue darkness of the night.

"Thanks for the drinks, Mik."

"No problem. Can I walk you home?"

"Well, sure. But don't you live here, in the village?"

"Yeah, but I don't mind. The walk will clear my head a little more."

They walked for a few minutes, past the darkened windows and bright porch lamps. The breeze was shallow and the sound of the ocean was not far off. The village was quiet for a Friday night. It wasn't quite ten yet.

Mikhail broke the silence. "So, why medicine?"

"Why Spell Creation and Arithmancy?" Harry asked back, smiling.

Mikhail smirked. "A case about a potentially dangerous spell being created came through the office one day, and with the war just ending, I became interested in how the spell worked exactly, to know if it really was dangerous, and should be considered banned and/or the research on it erased and the spell creator's memory modified."

"Interesting…" Harry commented before offering, "There were a lot of people who I wished I could have helped on the battlefield, but lacked the proper training to do so. Not to mention that Madam Pomfrey will be retiring soon, and someone's got to take over for her. I love Hogwarts, and would really like to make it my home, even with all the memories she gave me. Good or bad."

Mikhail stopped walking, just as they entered the darkened path between Rookwood and the B.I.

"That's…really special, Harry."

Harry smiled in return. "Thanks, Mik. I like to think so too."

They walked in silence, enjoying each other's company, before the B.I. came into view.

"Number One, right?" Mikhail asked, the circle of lights bringing a strange warmth and comfort with it.

"Yeah."

They entered the circle and walked past Number Three and Number Two, the lights in the cottages still on, and the occasional sound of laugher or the Wizarding Wireless echoing out an open window and across the courtyard. The melody of water on rock the sea created was a beautiful atmospheric background for the whole picture. Harry and Mikhail approached Number One and climbed the short steps to the porch.

"Well, here it is," Harry said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Thanks again for the drinks, Mik. And for walking me home."

"It's no problem Harry. I wanted to."

Harry smiled and turned to open the door. "Goodnight, Mikhail. See you on Monday."

But Mikhail grabbed Harry's arm. "Wait, Harry, I-"

Harry turned, and his green eyes met with Mikhail's deep brown ones, a split second before Mikhail leaned forward and kissed him.

Harry stood there for a short moment, unable to process and respond, before instinct kicked in and his eyes fluttered shut, his lips pressing back against Mikhail's.

It lasted for a bittersweet moment, and then his brain finally caught up with his instincts and he pulled away.

Looking wide-eyed up at his Quidditch Captain, Harry breathed, "Mikhail, what are you doing?"

Mikhail's eyes also turned wide, and his mouth stumbled out apologies. "Oh shit. Harry, I'm so sorry. You're not gay, are you? I just thought, with all the lack of girlfriends…shit! I'm such an idiot-"

"No!" Harry protested, holding up a hand. "I mean, I don't…I've never…really thought about guys before, but…I…er… Look Mikhail, I just need to go think. I'll, uh…talk to you later." And Harry quickly went inside, leaving Mikhail out on the porch.

The dark young Quidditch Captain sighed, feeling the weight of his mistake upon his shoulders.

"Shit."

* * *

Harry bolted upstairs the second he got inside, nearly slamming his bedroom door behind him in his haste. 

Sliding down onto the floor, he threw off his glasses and rubbed his shaking hands over his face. Touching his lips with his fingertips, he whispered the only thing that came to mind:

"Shit."

**

* * *

Saturday, 11 October 2003, Early Evening

* * *

**

Harry entered the painting studio with something akin to bats flying around in his stomach. Raven and Draco were already there, setting up a low table and the camera on a short tripod. Raven called a greeting from the floor, where she was fiddling with the camera.

"Hey, guys," Harry replied, closing the door behind him.

"Just finishing up," Draco said, straightening his back and nudging the table a few more inches with his wand. "This good, love?"

Raven glanced up. "Yep. Perfect. I'll set up the backdrop, you guys go get ready."

Turning to Harry, Draco smiled and walked over. "You ready to get naked in front of a girl, Potter?" the blond whispered, slinging an arm around Harry's neck and ushering the other man to the back changing room.

A wry smile came over the brunette's mouth. "Nothing I haven't done before." Draco chuckled, and the bats in Harry's stomach receded to butterflies. "But can I say the same about you?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I've had my fair share of bed partners," he said as he closed the door behind them.

"I'm sure," Harry replied, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it in the corner.

"What? Don't you believe me?" Draco asked, pulling off his charcoal grey jumper.

Harry's breath hitched slightly as porcelain pale skin came into view. The light was much dimmer than it had been in Draco's room, and the shadows tickled at the curve of Draco's side and collarbones, accenting his cheeks and chin, as well as his moderately toned chest and lower torso. He averted his gaze and pulled off his own shirt. "Sure, I believe you. I don't think there'd be any doubt, honestly."

"Uh-huh," Draco said, eying Harry's own well-maintained torso, drinking in the creamy skin and smooth muscles of his back as Harry bent down. "This room's a little small for two people, don't you think?"

Harry looked up from untying his shoes. "Yeah. A little."

"Here's you robe," Draco said as he tossed the black silk robe in Harry's direction. It landed on his head and shoulders, and silently fell to the floor.

Draco snickered and kicked off his own shoes and pulled off his socks. He watched as Harry pulled the robe over his shoulders before turning around and taking his pants and boxers off from underneath.

Draco raised an eyebrow again, noting Harry's shy behaviour compared to that of Tuesday night. He himself disrobed without shame, slipping a deep red robe over his shoulders just as Harry turned around.

Their eyes locked, and Draco tried to give Harry a reassuring smile. "Ready?"

Harry nodded. "Ready."

And they stepped out of the small room.

* * *

"Okay guys," Raven said upon seeing them, "robes off, and up on the table." 

Draco mock-groaned as if he were asked to do some particularly distasteful, but smiled and slipped off his robe easily, hopping up on the table.

Harry hesitated at seeing Draco so at ease, if only for a second, but Raven caught his hesitation and questioned him anyway.

"Still nervous, Harry?"

Harry started slightly, and looked at his reflection in the window, just before turning away and slipping off his own robe. "Er, no. It's just those windows, is all. I know no one can see us, but it's still kind of weird."

Raven walked over to the windows, charming them to look like the walls surrounding. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Harry stepped up onto the table, carefully avoiding looking at Draco, but he could feel the other man's gaze on his skin, see that porcelain skin from his peripheral vision, and those butterflies turned into bats again.

"Why aren't we using the photo lab? Surely they have a studio too?" Harry asked.

Raven shrugged. "Yeah, but I like this room. And I'm comfortable here. I'm the only one who comes here late at night as it is."

"Ah. So…where do you want us?"

"Well, first Harry, I need your glasses."

"What? Oh, right." Harry took them off and handed them down to Raven, who tucked them away in a pocket of her robe. Some part of him could relax, because he couldn't see Draco so easily anymore, but another part was nervous because he couldn't see Draco, but Draco could see him.

"Okay," Raven started, "for this first shot, I'd like you two to face each other," and the men turned sideways to the camera, their eyes tentatively meeting, " and Draco, put your right arm on Harry's left shoulder…yeah like that, but across his back too, good… And Harry, step forward on your left leg. Yep. And lower your head, so we can't see your face behind Draco's arm. Good. Yes…we can work with that. And now, for the lighting."

She adjusted the candles around the pair, building shadows between them and highlighting their musculature.

Draco watched Harry throughout the entire set up, noting that his skin was darkly tan against his own fair pallor. Harry kept his eyes closed and breathed rapidly through his mouth, which concerned Draco.

"Harry," Draco murmured, "are you all right?"

Harry tensed slightly, but didn't move. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why to you ask?"

"You seem a bit tense," Draco surmised, giving the muscles under this hand a soft squeeze.

Harry's breath came quickly through his nose now, and he swallowed hard. It wasn't that he was standing here naked with Draco. He was more afraid of whether or not he _could_ stand being around Draco like this for so long and not react in an unwanted way. Raven and Draco had been occupying his thoughts for the better part of the week, and now Mikhail's actions brought in a whole new set of things to think about. Although he'd been thinking of how Draco had unexpectedly entered his fantasies on Sunday and Thursday, he hadn't indulged; he had forced himself to think about someone else, anything else. But male figures still haunted the vestiges of his intimate dreams, and still he woke feeling confused and conflicted, but knowing, somehow, that what he was feeling was just the way it was, even if he wasn't completely sure of what it was he was feeling in the first place. But he had a pretty good idea, and it scared him to think of what could happen if anyone else knew.

"No," he finally replied, "I'm fine. Just…got a lot on my mind is all."

"Alright you perfect examples of the male ideal, you still ready?" Raven asked, stepping behind the camera.

"Yeah," Draco replied quietly, his gaze still on Harry.

Raven adjusted her focus, took a few pictures, and shifted her tripod to the right, readjusting the focus and taking a few more. "Alright. Now I want you guys to push against each other, like you're struggling, but you'll have to hold it for quite a few moments, so nothing too wild."

Draco smirked, and before Harry could move, he shifted his stance to that he was just behind Harry, tightening his arm around Harry's neck, slipping him easily into a chokehold.

Harry nearly stumbled forward in surprise, but Draco pulled their weight back and held them there. "Is this fine, love?" Draco grunted, as Harry's arms came up to stop Draco from pressing on his throat any further. He could feel the radiating heat of Draco's body and the smoothness of his skin all along his back, and it made him tense and gasp. It felt good, and Harry held his breath in anticipation of his own body's reaction to the feeling.

Raven's eyebrows were raised. "He's not hurting you, is he, Harry, love?"

Harry shook his head minutely, sucking in a breath. "No-he's…just got a good hold. Surprised me." His voice sounded rough, but not inhibited.

"Okay…" Raven adjusted the angle of the camera, quickly moved a few candles, and refocused the lens. "Alright…hold…just one more…and good."

Draco released his hold on Harry, who turned around with narrowed eyes.

"Thanks for nearly choking me, asshole."

Draco smiled. "Glad to be of service."

"I thought you were fine, Harry," Raven asked, worried.

The jade-eyed man turned to her. "Oh, I was. _After_ Draco nearly choked me."

"Draco!" Raven chastised.

The blond shrugged. "What?"

Raven sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just…go get your wands and get back on the table."

"Our wands?" Draco asked as Harry hopped off the table, quickly donning his robe.

"Yeah, I want to take a few shots of you mock duelling. And then we'll do a few of you sitting down and a few close ups of your individual limbs—for sketch-work."

Draco nodded and followed Harry to the back room, slipping on his robe as he went.

"You're not really mad at me, are you Harry? I was just kidding around."

"No, Draco, I'm not really mad," Harry answered with a distant-sound in his voice, pulling his wand out of his jacket pocket.

Draco pulled his out as well, but put a hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him from leaving.

"Potter, cut the bullshit. What the fuck is going on with you tonight?"

Harry glared at Draco as best he could in the slightly dim room without his glasses. "I told you, I've got a lot on my mind."

"Then tell me about it."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because. I just…it's… I don't even understand it, Draco."

"Well, maybe you'll start to if you talk about it."

Harry fidgeted on the spot, biting his lip. "Okay. I'll talk about it. But later. Raven's waiting for us." And Harry pushed past Draco and back into the studio, disappearing behind the backdrop. Draco watched as Harry's silhouette appeared on the cloth; his head drawn down and his shoulders slumped forward slightly. He looked defeated.

Draco finally followed, and over the next hour or so, Raven had them in various wizard's duelling positions, after which she had them set aside their wands and sit down on the table.

"Okay boys, last set for tonight. Harry, will you turn so your profile is facing away from Draco, and Draco, you do the same to Harry. I want you to lean your backs against each other and wrap your arms around your knees. Like that! Yes, perfect. You guys are really doing wonderful."

Harry again felt the warmth of Draco's skin on his back, and instead of making him tense, it made him feel a little more relaxed, like a reassurance that everything would be fine.

He let out a breath, and Raven took the picture, with Harry's head tilted back slightly in a rather carefree gesture.

Raven smiled slightly at the scene in front of her, before telling them gently to break apart and for Harry to sit facing her, cross-legged.

"Put your hands in your lap, Harry, and Draco, I want you behind him, kneeling, with your hands on his shoulders. Yes. Now look at each other. Perfect. Hold that."

As Raven adjusted her camera and the lighting, Harry and Draco gazed directly into each other's eyes, Draco intent on trying to read Harry, and Harry intent on not swooning. The atmosphere was definitely getting to him, and he was finding it hard to breathe. He glanced away for a second without moving and swallowed, just before Raven asked if they were ready.

Capturing the tender moment set up in front of her, Raven felt the atmosphere change, the tension and the adoration flowing unchecked around the room. Raven herself wasn't sure how she felt; feeling adoration for both men, she knew something was changing, and some part of her was saddened by it. Being behind the camera kept her separated from what was happening, and in some ways, that was a good thing. She had only been feeling more and more insecure about the situation since the first time Harry had been in this room, even before her dreams were forcing her to feel things she didn't think belonged to her. It was the most disconcerting feeling in the world, and she was only thankful that the dream only came sparingly and erratically, and not every night. The fact that it was reoccurring was only adding to her own tension and distress.

The need to talk in a subdued voice overcame her. "Harry, will you now sit turned away from the camera, your legs stretched out in front of you, with your left hand in your lap, and your right hand holding you up? Good. Draco, will you kind of sit on your side, facing Harry and I, holding yourself-"

"Up with my left hand?"

"Don't get smart with me," she said with a smile. "But yeah. And get a little closer, you two. Relax; like you're lounging."

"It's kind of hard to lounge on a hardwood table, love."

Harry's left hand came around and slapped Draco lightly across the mouth.

Raven laughed. "Thank you, Harry," she said as she adjusted her tripod.

Draco's mouth hung open in incredulity.

"You deserved it, dear," the girl said, winking at Harry as he turned to give her a smile.

Draco scowled, but moved closer to Harry anyway, shifting his legs to a comfortable sitting position.

Raven had them hold while she took a few shots, before asking them to face each other and intertwine their legs and arms together, in a loose, sitting embrace. Clumsily, and with much blushing, their legs wound up over and under each other's, and their arms loosely around each other's shoulders.

"I hope this isn't too intimate for you guys. I'll only take a few shots at medium range, but I'd like to take a few close up, if that's alright."

Draco whispered an affirmative, his grey eyes locked with Harry's jade ones, their breath mingling together, a light sheen of sweat starting to cover their nude bodies. Draco's hands rested lightly upon Harry's back and shoulders, his lips parted and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He could feel himself hardening, and had only been able to keep it at bay in the first place because of his determination _not_ to think about it. _Blast Raven! She's deliberately putting us in this position, probably with the hopes that we'll start shagging on this very table…Oh Harry…dammit, I'm sorry…_

_I can't help it; I want you…_

_I love you._

Harry himself was fairing no better. He had been too worried and nervous to become hard earlier, but with Draco so close and the tension of their current position slapping him in the face, he found he couldn't control his body anymore, and the pressure between his legs was building, his embarrassment apparent on his cheeks.

"Harry?" Raven asked, catching his attention. "Is this all right?"

Harry turned his head towards her, swallowing. "Uh, yeah," he breathed, his eyes losing focus slightly as the beating of his heart became erratic and the sudden heat around him caused him to become dizzy.

He couldn't understand what was happening to him. One minute, he was fine, if not a little distant; the next, he was in more and more intimate positions with Draco, which he thought he could handle, but it was apparent he couldn't. His logic was trying to fight his body's natural reactions; a battle that finally became too much.

"Harry?" Draco asked, as the jade eyes closed and Harry's weight swayed in his arms.

Raven frowned, stepping forward. "Is he all right?"

"I don't know. Harry, speak to me, come on." Draco shifted Harry's weight so he could hold on to him better.

"I…" Harry rasped, his eyes fluttering open, "just got…dizzy, is all. I'm fine."

"You sure?" Draco asked. "Do you want to stop?"

"M-maybe."

"All right. Come on, I'll help you up."

Draco quickly untangled their limbs and supported Harry as he stood, steadying him on his feet. "Can you make it to the back room?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Here are your glasses, love," Raven said, placing them in his hand. Harry put them on, making his way slowly to the back room.

Draco stepped up to Raven, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry you couldn't get those last pictures, babe."

"It's all right. It was only the last set…I guess we'll just have to do it later. I wonder what happened, though? I noticed that he seemed a little off, but I didn't want to pry."

"Bullshit. When have you ever not wanted to pry into other's lives?" he jibed playfully. "Besides, I know you deliberately put us in that position to get us closer. I know you're trying to get things moving, but-"

"Wait a minute. Are you accusing _me_ of causing what just happened?"

Draco was caught off guard by Raven's sudden defensiveness. "Well, why not? Darling, I know you mean well, but you haven't been talking with him. He needs time. Just let me deal with him, okay?"

"Draco, I'm just trying-"

"That's just it! You're trying too hard!"

Draco's voice rang out in the high-ceilinged room, stunning Raven into silence.

Raven narrowed her eyes up at him. "Fine then," she said. "You needn't worry anymore. You won't be seeing much of me in the future." And she turned around and started packing away her equipment, obviously having nothing else to say. Draco huffed and turned away from her, bending down to pick up the discarded robes before going to the back room.

* * *

"Hey," Draco said, closing the door behind him. 

"You were fighting about me, weren't you?" Harry asked, leaning against the wall, still completely undressed.

"You heard?"

Harry stepped away from the wall, looking at the floor and their pile of haphazard clothing. "You yelled, how could I miss it?"

"Right. Well, don't worry about it, Harry. She...just wants you to be happy, and I feel that she's pushing too hard. I lost my temper is all. But we'll be fine. We always are." He stepped forward and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Besides, I'm more worried about you. What's up? You nearly passed out there."

Harry shook his head and turned so that Draco's hand fell away. "I don't know why I started feeling so faint... Overwhelmed, I guess?" He sighed. "Sorry I worried you."

"That's fine, Harry. Isn't that what friends do? Perhaps I missed that memo when I was still being a complete prat."

Harry chuckled. "Maybe." Turning back to Draco, he said with a bit of hesitancy, "Something happened last night, that I don't know what to do about."

"Last night? Wait...didn't you go to the bar with Chaikovsky last night? He didn't kick you off the team did he?"

A puzzled frown graced Harry's visage as he finally found his boxers. "Kick me off? No. No…he didn't do that. We talked about the scouts that were at last week's game."

Draco's eyes lit up as he straightened from putting his own boxers on. "Really? Who was there?"

"Puddlemere, Montrose, and Wimbourne."

"I'd go with Montrose, Harry. Most consecutive wins, not to mention they usually win the cup every year."

"I thought you didn't follow the Magpies?" asked the brunette, slipping his jeans on.

Draco shrugged. "I don't, usually. But I'm not an idiot either...if I'm going to _be_ on a team, then I'm going to _be_ on a team that _wins_." He bent to find his socks.

Harry shook his head. "Here, this one's yours, I think."

"Thanks. So...if he didn't kick you off the team, what happened to make you so down today?"

Harry took a large pause, twisting his shirt in his hands before saying, "He kissed me."

Draco, who was balancing on one foot, nearly fell over. Righting himself, he asked, "What?"

"Do I really have to repeat it?"

"He...kissed you. He, as in the Captain? Chaikovsky? Mikhail Chaikovsky?"

"Yes, yes and yes."

"Oh...wow. I never realised..."

"That he was gay? Yeah, I know." Harry felt uneasy.

"So...you're feeling weird because he kissed you?" Draco was starting to feel a little pang of jealousy in his chest, but ignored it as best he could.

"Well...that's part of it..."

"And the other part?" _God, this room seems smaller every time I come in here...and the air is stale._

"Well, I told you I like Raven, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, if I like girls, then why'd I kiss Mikhail back?"

Draco stood there for a moment, completely stunned. Part of him was jealous as all hell, and another part was overjoyed that Harry seemed to have homosexual tendencies...but Draco wasn't about to count his eggs before they hatched. Taking a breath, he said reasonably, "Well, Harry...I don't know exactly. But either you like guys too, or you just did what anyone would do when they're kissed. They kiss back."

Harry just seemed to become more upset as he leaned against the wall. "So you're saying that you would kiss a guy back too, regardless of the fact that you like girls?"

"Er...that depends on the guy."

"Draco, you're confusing me..."

Draco stepped forward. "I'm sorry." He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, before quickly taking it away again. "Sorry...you probably don't want guys touching you, huh? You should have said something to Raven…we could have done this later, when things aren't quite so confusing for you."

Harry shook his head. "No…it's not that. I just... It wasn't a bad kiss, I just... It was my first _real_ one. Besides that one with Cho in fifth year... Fuck. I don't know, Draco."

"Well...what did you do after he kissed you?"

"I asked him what the hell he was doing, he apologised for assuming I was gay, and I told him that I didn't know how I felt, then I went inside."

"You didn't know how you felt? About what, exactly?"

"Guys."

"Okay..." Draco leaned on the wall next to Harry. "Have you been thinking about guys before he kissed you?"

Even in the dim light, Draco could see Harry's face and chest flush adorably. It made Draco's heart flutter slightly. "Er," Harry replied, "Just one...once. Or twice."

"Oh." A devilish smile graced Draco's mouth. "Care to tell me who?"

"Er...no thanks. If that's alright."

Draco waved him away. "It's fine. It took enough guts for you to tell me you have the hots for my girl. I hardly expect you to divulge in telling me what hot bloke has caught you're eye. Though I take it it's not Mikhail." _And I pray it's me...Merlin, I'm such a conceited sod._

"Thanks, Draco. And you're right. It's not Mikhail. I just...don't think this other guy likes me that way. But...I've been thinking about what happened with Mikhail all day, and I...I think I might like guys too. Just a little. I mean, I must, right, if I kissed him back and didn't want to beat the shit out of him."

"Well, if you're using that logic, then yeah."

Harry chuckled with no humour. "My only other thought is that I'm so starved for affection that I'll take it where ever I can get it."

"Don't sell yourself short, Harry. You deserve to be happy. More than anyone I know. And just about everyone else thinks so too. So...if you want to try something with Mikhail, then go ahead."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"It's not my approval you need, Harry. It's your own."

"I know that. I just...no offence or anything, Draco, but you've never seemed to be the most accepting person I know."

"Things change. People change. You of all people should know that."

"Yeah, I know."

There was a pause before Harry said; "I don't really know him all that well, even though he's been my captain for over two years."

"Well, go out on a date with him. Get to know him."

"But…wouldn't that cause favouritism? On the team?"

Draco shrugged, feigning indifference. "Then don't date him. Do whatever you want with whomever you want." He moved over to the other side of the small room, bending down to retrieve his pants.

Harry stepped forward. "Draco, have _you_ ever thought about guys? Even in just a passing fancy?"

Draco finished slipping on his slacks and straightened. "Only recently. Why?"

Harry seemed to sag in relief. "Well…I know it's none of my business, especially since I won't tell you who I've thought about, but is there someone in particular?" Draco shifted his eyes to look at the forest-coloured ones in front of him, and Harry rambled on. "I'm wondering because…if you were in a position to kiss a guy, would you?"

Draco stared at Harry for a long time before saying, "It's been more than a passing fancy, actually, and only one person."

"But would you kiss them, if you had the chance?"

"I'd want to, yes." Draco was starting to feel uneasy about this conversation. _If only you knew, Harry._

"Now I'm really curious," Harry said, studying Draco. "Who's the bloke that's caught Draco Malfoy's fancy? I promise I won't tell. I'm not a snitch, regardless of how many times I've caught one."

A smile tugged at Draco's mouth. He bent down for his jumper, studying it closely, as if it held the answer he needed. "I'm not sure you're ready to know that, Harry."

This only puzzled the dark-haired man more. "Why? Is it Ron or something?"

Draco's head snapped up. "Weasley? Ugh, Harry, don't gross me out, really. Weasley? Ew."

Harry laughed, feeling more at ease again. "Okay, okay. It's not Ron. Just had to throw it out there." Sobering, he asked for a third time, "So? Who is it?"

"You sure are demanding tonight, aren't you?"

"No, I'm just really, really curious. I never imagined that we'd be having this conversation."

"Neither did I." Charcoal grey wool slid over smooth porcelain skin. Tugging it straight, Draco looked up to watch Harry as he put on one of the red shirts he always wore, and made his decision. Once he had the other man's undivided attention, Draco murmured, "It's you."

There was a long pause as the two men stood there, bright grey lightning and dark emerald blazing. The air was suddenly heavy, while one figured out how to react, and one waited for the inevitable reaction.

Just as Draco was going to open his mouth and plea for Harry to say something, the ruby lips parted, and a soft "What?" emerged.

Draco swallowed and tried to make light of the situation. "It's Raven's fault, really. You know she adores you, and I…well, recently, I found that I couldn't resist your charms either." He paused and sobered. "I won't try anything Harry. Strangely, I've found your friendship to be very invaluable, and I'm done taking risks."

Harry lowered his eyes and broke contact. Turning away, he braced himself again the wall opposite. He just needed to _think._

_What about Raven?_

_Should I…?_

_Would it mess things up?_

_I'm tired of waiting… I should just take what I want, right?_

Harry wasn't sure of the answers.

The blond in the room stood very still, so unsure of what the other was thinking or feeling; and almost loathed to find out either way. He was getting no vibes from the situation-no awry magical energies were coming from Harry, and he wasn't sure if that scared him more than a magically rampant Harry. Not that he really knew how to deal with either.

Harry finally turned, his gaze lowered and his breath quickened.

"What about Raven?" was all he asked.

Draco was puzzled by the subject, but understood what Harry was getting at. "She…wants you to be happy. She cares a lot about you, and so do I. It's…taken me a lot of thinking about you to realise that. Raven wasn't lying when she said she'd be your friend or lover, whatever you need, and…" he took a deep breath, "I'd like to extend that offer as well."

Harry raised his eyes and searched Draco's grey depths. "Are you saying…that…I mean…I could be…dating…both of you? At the same time?"

Draco shrugged. "It's your decision, Harry. We just offer you ourselves and our…affections, whether it is closer to friendship or not. I'm not going to sway you either way, nor will I blame you if you walk away from the both of us, right now."

Harry glanced away before returning to his original gaze. "Hy-hypothetically, what if I wanted to be with only one of you?"

Draco gazed evenly back. "Then that's your decision, and neither of us would be petty enough to contest it." He smirked softly. "But I can't guarantee there won't be a little bit of jealousy."

Harry also smirked, and then his face softened in thought as his gaze once again turned away. Looking back to Draco, he stepped forward. "I've never been with a boy, Draco, let alone a girl."

"We know that, Harry. We won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."

Harry stepped forward again. "I don't even know how to kiss properly."

Draco wanted to shift, but didn't dare move. Harry's demeanour had changed slightly, and Draco wasn't sure what to make of it. "That's okay. You'll find most of it comes naturally, after you get started."

"I bet you already knew everything. You've never been the fool." Harry stepped forward again, and then he was only a foot away from Draco, who was feeling uneasy and wanted desperately to know what Harry was feeling or thinking or _something_. If he was going to hit him, he should just bloody well get it over with. But something in Draco was reading the situation positively, and hoped beyond all hope that he was right.

"That's not true," the pale man countered. "I was a fool about the Dark Lord. I was a fool about who you really were—about you in general. I…was all right my first few times. But like I said earlier, Harry, it's all about confidence."

Harry seemed to weigh the word on his tongue. "Confidence… Will you teach me confidence, Draco?"

"If you'd like."

Harry nodded. "I would like that," he lowered his gaze and swallowed nervously, "and other things, too."

Draco cocked his head. "Like what?"

Harry's eyes landed on Draco's lips, and Draco felt a strange swelling under his rib cage.

"Like to be kissed again."

There was a beat and Draco breathed, his throat suddenly closed off, "By me?"

Harry's lips' parted and he nodded, shifting closer.

Something sparked in Draco's mind. "Was it me?" he asked slowly, wondering. "The one you've thought about?"

Harry's eyes left Draco's pink lips to meet his wondering grey gaze. "Yes."

That was all the confirmation Draco needed before he finally moved—like the rubber band holding him back had finally snapped—and he shifted forward, closing the gap between them. But he paused right before their lips touched; to see the want in those green eyes, giving Harry the opportunity to complete the gesture and press his lips against Draco's.

All was still for a moment, just lips pressing against lips and lashes tangling together as they fluttered shut. Then Draco raised a hand to caress Harry's soft cheek, his other arm slipping around Harry's waist, while Harry's arms rose to hold Draco's upper arms before sliding around his shoulders.

Draco breathed in harshly through his nose, slipping his other arm around Harry's waist to pull the man to him and press harder with his mouth. The nervous tension in his rib cage swelled, pressing against his heart, and he could feel it beating harder in his chest, and surely, he thought, Harry could feel it too. Then Draco slowly pulled away, planting another short and soft kiss to Harry's wanting lips before breaking lip-to-lip contact completely.

Harry's eyes blinked open, and Draco was pleased to see his green eyes heated and his cheeks and lips flushed red.

Harry was breathless, his mind whirling and his heart thumping hard, and _oh,_ he'd just been firmly and soundly kissed, and…and…

Their breath mingled together for a moment before Draco whispered, "Was that what you had in mind?"

Harry nodded mutely, his eyes trailing up Draco's face to rest on his eyes. "Better than," he replied breathlessly.

…he wanted _more._

Draco smirked. "Good."

There was a beat where Draco was trying to decide if he should initiate another kiss—not wanting to pressure Harry into anything more than he asked for, when Harry made that decision for him by throwing off his glasses and moving his head to capture Draco's lips with his own. Draco enthusiastically took his own surprise and put it to better use, pulling Harry to him again, who lost his balance and slammed them both into the wall behind Draco.

The kiss seemed to change then, becoming fevered and open; Draco guided Harry, their breaths becoming harsh and panted as desire consumed them both. Harry pulled back on Draco's neck to kiss him harder, also pressing Draco into the wall as much as he could, trying to mould his body to the blonde's. Draco pressed firmly back before easing away and teasing Harry's lips with his tongue.

Harry's lips parted quickly, and the next either of them knew, it was a battle of tongues, with Harry plunging his fingers into Draco's soft blond locks and Draco's hands seeking the hot skin of Harry's back beneath his shirt.

Harry moaned as Draco's cool hands came in contact with that hot skin, their mouths breaking apart, and Draco dove for Harry's neck, overwhelmed with want and need for the man in his arms. The cognate part of his brain that was still active was in awe at what he was currently doing and just how much the need had been there, and how much it consumed him now.

Harry felt the same, dazzled by this all consuming need to touch and feel and reach some dizzying point of distinct pleasure. It was humming through his bones, and singing through his nerves, creating a seductive melody that rung in Harry's ears, along with the shuffling of fabric and the moans and breaths of himself and Draco. He was not thinking about the fact that he shouldn't _really_ be so attracted to another man, that it didn't matter, because he was, and Draco was so suddenly _wonderful_ and _perfect_, and Harry wanted nothing more than to spend all his time kissing his newfound friend.

Harry fell victim to Draco's talented mouth, gasping when the bites stung and moaning when the sting was soothed by Draco's wet tongue. He could feel the ache within his groin building painfully, and could feel that same ache from Draco. The thought of it sent a thrill through his entire body and ended at the centre point—in his hard arousal.

Harry moaned louder and felt his knees go weak; kissing was like…like…oh hell, he couldn't make a good analogy right now, he was being thoroughly snogged by Draco Malfoy.

Harry yanked up on Draco's hair to kiss that sensual mouth again, and Draco complied hungrily, devouring as much as he was being devoured. He tugged up on Harry's shirt, and they broke apart to pull it off and throw it in the corner, and Draco once again had that beautiful skin in his view, but this time it was under his hands and he was able to explore the smooth planes and hard musculature. It was so much different than a woman, who was all soft and curvy, but it was no less wonderful.

Harry's arms were loose at his sides, but he soon ran his hands up Draco's arms as Draco distracted himself with Harry's torso. The wool of Draco's jumper felt coarse under even his slightly callused hands, and Harry wondered idly why Draco would wear something so rough. His fingers clutched at it slightly, feeling the hard muscles underneath, and wanted to feel them with his bare hands again.

Draco stepped forward into Harry's arms again, placing a chaste kiss to Harry's collarbone and his hands on Harry's hips. He then placed another short kiss on Harry's exposed neck, and one on his temple before backing away and pulling off his own shirt.

Harry barely got a good, long look at Draco's chest before it was once again against his own and his lips were at Draco's mercy. The heat radiating between them was exotic and intoxicating; and as their activities heated up their bodies and blood, the room's temperature also rose, and their breathing became even more laboured, inhaling hot air and the smell of desire.

Harry allowed his hands to roam Draco's back, and as sweat began to build up on their skin, Draco pushed them to the wall opposite, trapping Harry against the wall and himself. He pressed his hips against Harry's, delighting in the surprised gasp it elicited.

Draco's fingers wandered around Harry's body, caressing his sides and causing the slightest bit of laughter from Harry's throat and into Draco's mouth as he continued to kiss almost desperately. Those deft fingers teased the hem of Harry's jeans, sneaking inside an inch or two and pausing, waiting for Harry's approval.

What he got was a small hiss as his fingers brushed against the scar applied to Harry's side.

Draco immediately stopped, pulling away slightly to look into Harry's eyes, deep emerald with desire, and marred by pain.

Draco quickly slid down Harry's body, and reaching Harry's hip, he quickly unbuttoned Harry's jeans and tugged them down a few inches, to see the very thing that caused Harry pain.

He placed a soft and gentle kiss to it before murmuring, "Does it always hurt?"

Harry's breathing was slightly irregular, as he fought to regain control of his senses. "I… Not all the time. It's always been tender."

Draco nodded and brushed his fingertips over it again. "Harry, I don't want to hurt you."

"Draco, I'm fine."

"No, I don't mean your scar. I mean…Raven and I… I love her, Harry. And we've…thought about marriage." He looked up. "You have to understand, that even though we care a lot about you, we…we can't guarantee that this can last. Physically, that is. So you can walk away now, if you want to. I don't want you to regret this, any of it, when one of us says it has to end."

Harry blinked, swallowing the harsh reality he'd suddenly been put into by Draco's words. Draco stood, and brushed his fingers over Harry's cheek. "I am so sorry, Harry. I never should have allowed things to go even this far. But Raven kept insisting, and-" he dropped his gaze and hit the wall next to them, making Harry jump, "_dammit_, this is exactly why I didn't want… No, that's a lie." He looked back up into Harry's confused gaze. "I _do_ want you, Harry. But I'd rather we just stay friends than me having to hurt you. Or Raven for that matter. It's not fair to you to be put in this situation."

Harry's face became slightly troubled as the high from earlier came hurtling downward. "I understand, Draco. I…I have to think about it."

Draco nodded, already turning away to get ready and leave, when Harry's hand came up and turned Draco's face back to his.

"But I doesn't mean I want to stop."

Draco was whirled around and pressed up against the wall, Harry attacking any skin he could reach with his lips and teeth, and Draco was taken aback by this suddenly aggressive Harry.

"Harry, Harry, what are you-ah!"

Harry leaned his face in close, almost whispering directly into Draco's ear. "Draco, I'm tired of people trying to baby me, and influence the way my life goes. So, until I've made some decision, I'm going to do what I want. And what I want right now, is for you to shut the hell up and make out with me."

Draco's chuckle was muffled by Harry's mouth upon his, and in answer, he kissed him back enthusiastically, twining his hands in Harry's wonderfully wild hair. Harry's hands sneaked around Draco, splaying across his back, one hand then going to try and unbutton Draco's trousers while the other snuck underneath the waistband and teased the flesh of Draco's ass.

Draco moaned appreciatively, one of his own hands sliding down to play with Harry's jeans, pushing them down slightly. Harry quickly stepped back and pushed them down the rest of the way, kicking them away before moving in on Draco again. Draco delighted in the feeling of Harry against him, and could now feel just how aroused Harry was. He slipped his hand underneath the waistband of Harry's boxers, enjoying the feel of his ample ass, as Harry worked on getting Draco as undressed as he was.

Draco stepped out of his pants as successfully as he could while kissing and holding on to Harry at the same time. Unfortunately, he lost his balance at the last second, sending them both crashing into the wall and floor opposite.

"Ow…" Harry complained, rubbing his head as Draco kneeled over him, uncharacteristically embarrassed and knees smarting from the fall. "This is the second time this week."

"You okay?" Draco asked breathlessly.

"Yeah," Harry replied, tilting his head up to accept the small kiss of condolence Draco granted him, before being once again swept away in the intenseness of Draco's lips and Draco's body hovering over his.

Draco let his hands roam over Harry's skin as they sat there, in the dim room of the hidden art wing. Ghosting his palm over Harry's arousal and receiving a most pleasing noise, Draco took it upon himself to relieve Harry of that most tortuous pressure, pushing aside the moist fabric and revealing Harry's aching need for release.

Harry gasped as Draco's fingers teased the hard flesh before finally engulfing him in heat and pressure. He could only sit there against the wall; holding himself up and breathing harshly at the feelings that ran like electricity through his body.

They had long ago broken lip contact, both concentrating only on the feelings of giving pleasure and receiving it. Draco leaned over Harry, bracing an arm on the wall above Harry's head, enraptured by Harry's pants and noises, and the feel of him in his hand. So much like himself, but so different.

It did not take long for Harry to cry out, the release imminent and over, in wave after wave of shock and pleasure.

Draco took his hand away, and not caring about the stickiness, tilted Harry's flushed face upward and kissed him soundly on the mouth, stealing what little breath Harry had away. Pressing their foreheads together, they closed their eyes and let their sweat and breath mingle, Draco's just as laboured as Harry's, yet his gratification was not yet met. Lazily, Draco cast a wandless cleaning charm, removing the seed from Harry's stomach and boxers, and his own hand.

Harry whispered, "Draco, do you want me to…"

But Draco shook his head. "No, you don't have to. I'm fine."

Harry kissed him. "Liar. You're just as hard as I am."

"Was," Draco corrected.

"Oh shove off. Let me." Harry kissed him again, his hands trailing down Draco's bare sides to the top hem of his boxers.

"Do you think it could wait until we get to my room?"

"On your bed?" Harry asked huskily, kissing him once more.

"Or the floor again, whichever you prefer."

Harry chuckled and kissed Draco one last time, sitting up and snaking his arms around the blonde's slim waist and looking him in the eye. "I…really like you, Draco."

Draco paused slightly, covering it up by pulling Harry to him. "I really like you too, Harry." He pulled away. "Which is why I don't want you to get hurt."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm aware of the risks, Draco. But I'm twenty-three years old, and I have been capable of making my own decisions for quite a while now. However, I told you that I'd really think it though, and I will." He smiled. "Let me be reckless, will you? I do believe I've had plenty of practise of making it out unscathed."

Draco rolled his eyes and moved back to stand, stepping around the room and grabbing the articles of clothing that were his, and throwing the rest of them at Harry, who only laughed.

Once they were fully clothed, and their wands and Harry's glasses found, the two stepped out of the room, hit full on with the light and the clarity of the air in the much larger room. Draco grabbed the robes before they left the room, which was now devoid of anything visible that might point to the activities that occurred there.

Walking through the studio, they both noted that everything was as it was before the photo shoot. The table was neatly pressed up against one wall, the backdrop gone and the windows revealed once more.

Just before leaving the studio, Draco turned to Harry and pulled him forward, kissing him, hard, putting all of his love and frustration into the gesture. They both came away breathless, and with one last glance, Draco quickly led the way out and into the dark and cold night, across the courtyard and into Number Three.

Blaise tried to question them as they ran up the stairs, but they ignored the queries unheeded, sharing secret devious smiles that continued to stick as they made it into Draco's room and shut the door behind them.

Draco still had a half-mind to cast a silencing charm as Harry attacked him, pushing him up against the door and ravishing the sultry and smirking mouth that was Draco's.

His last coherent thought was: _I do believe I've unleashed a monster. Or a very horny and sex-deprived twenty-three year old man. _

_Oh, fuck it. Who cares?_

And Draco lost himself in the feel, taste and sound of Harry as Harry lost himself in the feel, taste, and sound of Draco.

* * *

**A/N: **_Again, I can't thank you all enough for being so patient. I have finished reading HBP, and it WILL NOT affect this story at all. This story has always been considered AU, and obviously, to those who have read HBP, know that certain things have been set up in my story that discount the 'updated' canon. So no complaining! ;)_

_I hope you all are doing wonderfully, and I do hope, that even if you read this chapter at my yahoo site, that you **PLEASE** leave a review, either as a message, or here. It would be much appreciated. _

_Also, for any of those who wish to discuss HBP or Harry Potter in general, you can use my Yahoo site if you wish. I have no problems hosting a discussion about HBP and how that might influence fanfiction. I will not be posting my opinions at this time, but perhaps later, and most likely on my LJ, which can be found under '_ravenhunter'._ Friend me, if you like._

_I…think that's it. Knowing me, I'll probably remember something later. shrug_

_Love you all!_

_Kiss-kiss_

_Aki-Hoshi_

**Review Responses:**

Thanks to all my faithful reviewers! **Amy Bee, xxbabysparklesxx, MagicalThinking, Kat, Aussie Trebs, and Windy River,** thanks so much for your thoughts!

**Camila**: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I'm glad to hear that this is one of your favourite stories, and I understand about your feelings about Harry liking Raven. But, as I see it, he'd more likely be attracted to Raven first off, because he's never bothered to think about guys in that way. That's where Draco comes in…

And I COMPLETELY understand about the end of the Half-Blood Prince… I won't say what either, but I'm still having mixed feelings about it at this point. I'm not sure how to describe my impression/feelings about it quite yet. Thanks again for writing, and I hope to hear from you again!

**Twodollartrick:**

Hey babe.

God, I've missed being able to write back to you through these things, even though we talk through e-mail all the time. :P

As always, thank you for your wonderful and long review. I'm glad you liked the imagery…I certainly hope I made you wet your pants with this one. lol

As far as Raven's feelings towards Draco and Harry in love…well, basically, she doesn't mind. I mean, she loves Harry, Draco loves Harry, and so Harry loving Draco back (or her for that matter) doesn't bother her. In some ways it will, that's just normal, jealous, possessive human nature. Her getting pushed out has crossed her mind though…and she's still figuring out how to deal with it. This devious little minx isn't quite as confident as she seems…

You know, I never thought that Draco was super-vulnerable in that journal…but that could be because I've read it so many damn times, I've forgotten how it was supposed to make people feel. lol

In that respect, I'm really glad you were so affected by the Ron/Draco/Harry scene. It was supposed to be awkward. I usually try to feel the way each character feels as I write a scene or a piece of dialogue…just to give it that personal and more realistic touch. (Unfortunately, sometimes my wit likes to creep in when it's not wanted.)

No, Ron isn't all that bright in relation to some things. But he knows Harry well, and with Hermione's help, he's managed to figure it out mostly on his own. He normally, in my opinion, either lets his imagination get away with him, or just doesn't think of all the possible truths, so he gets lost on one track instead of looking down another. He does wish Harry happiness above all things, and though he's still struggling with Draco being in the picture, he's willing to accept most things, if it will make Harry happy. He'd rather Harry be happy with someone Ron doesn't like than push his best mate away.

As far as Harry's opinion at Madam Malkin's, no, it didn't have anything to do with the 'he might be gay' factor. Harry isn't like that, anyways. No, I think it was more of a, 'let's get everyone's opinion, even Harry's, since Ron is no help at all' sort of thing. Harry just happened to make some good suggestions off of what Hermione had already thought of.

And what is it with everyone wanting Draco to slip Harry his dick during that photo shoot scene? Good lord, you weren't the only one. Sorry to disappoint, but I hope I made up for it right after. :D

Anyways, hope to hear from you soon, and I hope your money situation is working out…I'd send you a few quid if I had any to spare. (Regardless of the fact that I'd have to have it exchanged from dollars first…and the exchange rate is horrible now…)

Also, did you want me to still write that story about you and…um..whispers Christian? I'll be honest and say I never started it, and I'm not sure I'll have the time with school starting this week. Just let me know, or let me know if you want me to write something else.

Kiss-kiss

Rae

**Elsie**: I'm happy Raven's grown on you. Either she does or she doesn't. :) Unpredictability is what I'm going for. ;) Thanks for reading.

**Incessant Darkness**: There wasn't really much good angst in this chapter, but there definitely will be, later on. I'm glad you think so highly of my writing, and I'll do my best when I get there. Some sad or upsetting things will be happening soon, but nothing big until much later. It all depends on how much I get into each chapter…they've been wanting to double in size recently… Thank you for reading and reviewing.

**Opal Portia**: Yes, yes, I wanted you to suffer. I. Am. Evil. Ha! Okay, not really, but I can pretend. (Though my fiancé would disagree. I'm a woman, so of course I'm evil. --rolls eyes at him--) About Harry getting hurt…everyone will, in the end. But there will be happiness too, so hopefully it will even out. That's all I can say without giving things away. Thanks for reading and reviewing again. :D

**Tsuki Fa**: I understand your hatred for Raven. People either love her or don't. I'm somewhere in between, honestly. :) School went well, obviously, but now it's starting all over again, so we'll see. I always like reading new stories, so I'll probably check yours out. Good luck with writing.

**Lynz**: Thanks for your enthusiasm and suggestion. I'll definitely try to check that out soon, and yes, I plan on finishing this story. It's AU anyway, and HBP isn't going to change anything. And to your comment about 'maudlin'. Maudlin isn't a noun, it's an adjective. It means sappy or over-emotional. Though it could be a name, too, I'm sure. (But why someone would name their kid that…) And as to your comment about Raven and her 'twin', I'm just referring to the fact that her and Harry look a lot alike—green eyes, dark hair…but that's about where it ends. They both have freckles on their noses (in my mind), but she's much paler than he, and their bone structure isn't quite the same, though at a quick glance, one might think their twins… And I LOVE rambling! Well, sort of. lol I mainly just like people who put a bit of personality into their reviews, and actually take the time to jot down their thoughts and concerns. So, thanks! And I hope to hear from you again!

**Loofa**: lol No, don't apologise. I can understand why you would be feeling bad, I'm very sorry to hear about your boyfriend. Besides, you can have your opinion; I was just defending Raven's 'mary-sue' qualities. :) One my betas doesn't like her at all, so really, I don't mind you not liking her. I'm glad I haven't put you off with her, and I hope you liked the photo shoot scene…or more like, what came after. ;) Thanks for reviewing, and apologising (though you didn't need to), and I hope to hear from you again! I'd rather get everyone's honest opinions than them not telling me anything at all.

**fifespice**: Ron being overly worried is one of his strong personality traits, as much as he'd probably not want to admit it. I don't personally think Ron is being petty, he's just reacting based off what he knows about Malfoy, and is still apprehensive about this situation, regardless of other people's opinions. That's the thing about Ron, he holds true to his first impressions, unless something rather strong changes his opinion. Take Krum for example. He totally worshiped him until Krum started moving in on Hermione, who he is obviously crushing on, though he probably didn't even realise it himself. Jealousy and being a worry-wart are Ron's two biggest traits, other than being faithfully loyal to those he loves. (Of course, that only makes those other two traits their strongest when pertaining to those people.) So, in Ron's mind, he has every right to feel like Draco is taking his place, especially since he doesn't understand why. He logically knows Draco has changed some, but doesn't see what he has as a friend that Ron doesn't, and feels threatened by that. Anyways, enough of my Ron-rambling. Thanks for reviewing again, as always.

**MyOriginalIntent**: blushes Oh, gee, thanks! I'm amazed that you think so highly of my story and me. Most times I'm just so overwhelmed with getting things in and doing it at a proper pace, that I have to renew my resolve not to just shove things together and call it that. So, I hope the ending of this chapter satisfied that little H/D itch, though there's definitely more to come. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I'd love to hear from you again!

**myniepheonix**: I'm happy to hear that you like my story and all the elements within it. I was hoping there wasn't too much OOC in Harry and Draco…I think that they're pretty hard to write, even though we see Harry as a character in the books more than Draco. It's hard to judge how someone might act after going through a war, especially with the type of role Harry plays in it. They're more mature (hopefully) and a lot of things happened to change their views/personalities, and so I hope I've created a logical change in them based from that. Thank you for reviewing!

**MO:** There's nothing more to say. You know I love you.

**IcyAurora8: **Kisses to you; always. 3

**mrjones: **Forever will you be in my heart, and I wish you back soon! xox


	16. Living Just Isn't Hard Enough: Take Ever

**Update 10.11.05:** Oops! I totally bungled that up! A special thank you to **Steban**, who pointed out my error in saying the the lyrics to "Prayer" were by Staind! They're actually by Disturbed. Thanks, Steban! I was listening to Stand when I wrote that...it was on the brain, I guess...I _can't believe_ I messed that up! Disturbed is one of my favourite bands!So, I changed the disclaimer below...lol Silly me.

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything Harry Potter, but I do own Raven, Mikhail, Meghan, Rookwood, the "Big Book of Sex", as MO likes to call it, and the B.I. NO stealing. Lyrics throughout the chapter are owned by _Disturbed _(not Staind!), and no copyright infringement is intended. Lyrics are from the song "Prayer".**

**_Chapter Notes: _**_Gah! Don't hit me! Please...? I know...I know...It's been like...three or four months... All I can say, is that I'm really, REALLY sorry. I can't say that I was **overwhemingly **busy, but I did gain a social life, which took away a lot of writing time...helped plan a HP b-day party for my friend, did homework...worked on my new website...various other things...like writer's block. Planning future trilogies with two other writers (more on that as it develops)...just generally trying to stay alive and happy. _

_I hope you all are doing well, and I hope you like this chapter. I did a little something different this time..I added song lyrics. Which is usually something I don't like doing so much...but in some ways those particualar lines just fit, if you catch the right inferences. The whole song is not there, though...just certain parts. I think I was listening to that album too much. > . This chapter isn't as long as the last two...and again, working on websites, my degree and a social life has taken a lot out of me. **:D **_

_About my website...there is info on my userpage...we're hoping for a launch date of All Hallow's Eve. I'm excited about that! If you guys have any idea what a good mailing list server/service would be to use, we'd be forever grateful! (We were having problems with our other one). It'll basically be a more aesthetically pleasing site to use...like Yahoo! but with more control for me. So, I hope, when that happens, you'll all please sign up for the mailing list. Right now, I have most of everything up...but a few elements are missing, so it's not quite finished yet._

_All my love to the people who made this chapter happen: **IcyAurora8, MachiavellianOrange, **and **Twodollartrick!** Thank you guys SOOOOOOO much, and I love you to bits!_

_Sadly, **MachiavellianOrange **must leave us...she is very busy with school, and I wish her the best of luck in this important year! Love you, MO! Here's to Mutant Ninja Hookers and sexy Russian-Brits!  
_

_**Twodollartrick **is just a visiting beta, but we love him all the same! He has helped me the most when it comes to all things sexually gay and the wonders of British culture, as is his right as the Awesomely Gay British Dude. I love you, Jords!_

_Now, enough of **me**...you want the **chapter**!

* * *

_

**Chapter XVI – Living Just Isn't Hard Enough: Take Everything Away

* * *

**

_Let me enlighten you_

_This is the way I pray

* * *

_

Raven stomped loudly into Number Four, kicking her clogs off viciously and quickly stalking upstairs, a sour look on her face and a violent sheen in her eyes.

Daphne jumped as the front door slammed shut—the glass rattling dangerously—and two hard thwacks were heard against the wood panelling of the foyer. Looking up from her book, she just barely caught her roommate storm upstairs, worrying immediately about what had happened. Raven hardly ever lost her cool._ But when she did…_

Daphne set her book aside, uncurling herself from the armchair by the fire. A door upstairs slammed shut, and Daphne quickened her pace across the room and up the stairs, casting a very troubled look at Mandy, Tracey and Su, who were in the kitchen, washing dishes and baking cookies for dessert.

Tracey excused herself, wiping her doughy hands on a towel and following her two ex-Slytherin friends upstairs.

She found Daphne paused outside her bedroom door, apprehension all over her pixie features. Tracey nodded, and Daphne opened the door abruptly, not bothering to knock. It was better to catch Raven off-guard, after all; trying to pry the information out of her would prove to be much easier if you didn't act too consoling—getting her riled up tended to make everything come out.

But suddenly opening the door did not have the effect Daphne and Tracey were hoping for. Instead of yelling, Raven simply sat there at the head of her bed, glowering at nothing in particular.

"Raven?" Daphne asked the younger girl. She didn't answer. The two girls moved into the room and closed the door behind them. Tracey sat on the edge of the bed, and Daphne stood at the end, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What happened?" Tracey asked cautiously.

There was still no reply, so Daphne put her hands on her hips and glared down at her friend. "Spit it out, Raven, and then we can go beat the shite out of him already."

Tracey nearly smirked, but managed to keep a straight face. Raven cast her gaze down, but it was still another minute before she replied, "What makes you think that there's a 'he'?"

Tracey rolled her eyes. "Because, it's _always_ a 'he'. What did Draco do now?"

Raven clenched her jaw and ground out, "Draco Malfoy is a fucking asshole, that's what he's done."

Daphne and Tracey shared a roll of eyes. This was nothing new. Draco Malfoy was always an asshole. Just _why_ he was, was the difference.

"Like I asked, what did he do now?" Tracey said again, leaning back on one hand and cocking her head.

"He just… He fucking thinks… _I_ fucking pointed him in the right direction… He _never_ would have talked to Potter if it weren't for me! And then he just goes and blames _me_ for pushing too hard, when _he's_ the bloody one who's around him all the time! I just-"

"Whoa, whoa, Raven…back up. What's Potter got to do with it?" Daphne asked.

Raven sighed, burying her face in her hands. "He's got everything to do with it," she mumbled.

"But how?"

Raven tilted her head back against the wall, bringing her knees up to rest her arms on them, her gaze on the ceiling. Sighing heavily again, she began an abbreviated version of her tale.

"I've noticed Potter, alright? Ever since the war…I mean, you know I've been in love with Drake since we were initiated, but during Sanctuary…when I learned more about Potter…I've been fascinated."

"Okay…" Tracey said, sitting up straighter and looking at Raven more seriously. Daphne dropped her hands to her sides and watched the dark-haired witch warily.

"And…so I've, well…I've watched him. Paid attention. He hasn't been well. I didn't know him before or anything, but-" and she smiled wryly, "I've gotten very good at reading people, and I could tell…I could tell that the war was still bothering him. He hasn't really moved on, like everyone else."

"Not everyone _did_ move on, Raven. We all still have nightmares. Sometimes," said Daphne.

"I know," Raven agreed. "I guess I just mean…he led everyone to think he was fine, that he was completely over it…but he never really was, you know? And every time Draco would give him shit, he wouldn't really do anything in retaliation. It drove Drake insane. I kept trying to tell him that fighting with Harry was pointless, that we weren't in Hogwarts anymore, but he wouldn't listen. And I couldn't watch while Harry just suffered. His friends didn't even seem to notice. None of them cast worried glances at him anymore. I _do_ remember that from Hogwarts. And just after the war. But after that, after we started school again…everyone just moved on, leaving Harry behind."

Daphne bit her lip, and Tracey took a deep breath before saying, "So how does this connect to now? I know that you and Draco have become friends with Potter. It's been all over campus for weeks now."

Raven nodded, her eyes only half-focused. "I bargained with Draco, to make him be friendlier with Harry. To make-up with him, I guess. I…I really like Harry," she said in a subdued voice, looking at Tracey and Daphne through her eyelashes.

Daphne's eyebrows shot up, and Tracey looked bemused. "You mean," Daphne started, "that you _like_ Potter?"

Raven nodded in a forlorn kind of way, averting her gaze to the floor between the beds. "I couldn't help it—all that watching him…he just… He's attractive, no sane girl could doubt that, and for the second time in my life, my heart reached out for someone…I just didn't think it would be Harry Potter."

All three girls were silent for a while, not knowing what to say. Finally, Daphne cleared her throat and asked, "So you became friends with him, you and Drake, and then what happened?"

"Does Draco know you like Potter in that way?" Tracey put in.

Raven nodded. "Yes. I told him. Before he became friends with Harry. I wanted him to be comfortable with Harry. Because…I want them. Both of them."

Tracey blinked, quite stunned. Daphne looked away, astonished. Raven only laughed in a rather mad way and exclaimed, "And so now Draco is getting feelings for Harry, just like I wanted, and I tried to help it along—and Draco says I'm pushing too hard! 'He's not ready,' he says. 'You haven't been talking with him', 'just let me handle it,'" Raven mimicked in a slightly whiny and hysterical voice. "Well, _fuck you_, Draco Malfoy. You didn't give a knut's worth of thought to Harry before I told you to, you stupid, poncy _bastard_!"

Raven was very worked up now, her cheeks stained red and her hands in fists. She didn't care if she sounded like a spoilt child; Draco had practically pushed her out of the equation all together. Out of the relationship. 'Well, you've gotten me to fall for Potter, good job. I won't be needing you anymore, so bye,' Raven thought, and snorted in response. What an _asshole._

"So…" Daphne said haltingly, "Draco…likes Potter? As in…really likes him?"

Raven nodded, tears pricking in the backs of her eyes and her heart cracking a little at having someone else say what she had been thinking for a while now. "Yes. As far as I can tell, yes, Draco likes Harry as much as I do. He hasn't actually told me, but…" She sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. "I just wanted Harry to be happy. He deserves it, don't you think? But I…I think I pushed Draco away. I think he's so caught up in saving Harry that he's forgotten about me. We…we still kiss and whatnot, but not very often. He's too busy going to Quidditch practise or studying potions or talking with Harry that I never see him anymore. I'm happy for Harry, I really am, but I feel so…so…" She hiccoughed and tears started tumbling down her cheeks, and she muffled a sob behind her hand.

Tracey reached forward and touched Raven's foot consolingly, while Daphne came to her friend's side and wrapped her arms around Raven's shaking frame.

Raven sat there for long minutes, just sobbing into her roommates shoulder, feeling her entire world fall down around her. She was so _frustrated_, and this little pang of loss was thrumming with every heartbeat, stinging each time her heart slammed against her ribs. It was quite a while before her sobs reduced to shuddering breaths, and her grip on Daphne relaxed to a tired and defeated embrace.

Tracey and Daphne looked at each other, both at a complete loss as to what to do. Raven was their friend, sure, and had been for many years…regardless of her deviation to the Dark Lord's side and back, they still cared about her.

But the honest truth was that they didn't really understand the situation at all, and therefore, didn't know what to do to make Raven feel any better. In fact, they were both communicating to each other that whatever Raven got herself into wasn't anything they could help her with.

Tracey finally cleared her throat and murmured, "I'm going to get some milk and cookies for us to share. It'll help cheer you up, Raven; things will get better, I promise." And then she quietly left the room and headed downstairs.

Raven sat back from Daphne, muttering apologies and wiping her eyes. Daphne waved the repentance away, taking out her wand and cleaning her shirt of salty water and snot. Tracey came back in a minute later, holding a silver tray filled with a plate of freshly baked cookies and three large glasses of milk.

Raven smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Trace."

"It's not a problem," Tracey replied, setting the tray between the three of them, handing them each a glass and offering a biscuit first to Raven, then to Daphne, before taking one herself and settling down on the bed.

They sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the confectioneries and losing themselves in thought, before Daphne finally broke the quiet.

"Raven, I can't tell you that I know how you're feeling, because to be honest, I haven't a clue. In fact, I'm not so sure I really understand what's going on…or if I even like what I've heard so far. Meaning—I'm not sure I can sympathise, because it really sounds like you got yourself in this situation."

Tracey's gaze at Daphne became pointed and wary, while Raven just pursed her lips and fought with her control. It wasn't odd for Daphne to be so point-blank, but it was still hard for Raven to hear that she was behaving like a brat about something she got herself into.

"I know that," the ex-Death Eater bit out. "I know I was stupid. But I thought I had everything under control. It was supposed to be the three of us…and now, I'm not even there, at all."

Daphne frowned. "Well then, _do_ something about it! For Merlin sakes, Raven, you're just as sneaky and ambitious as Draco, you can wheedle your way back in if you want. Especially if you managed to get him thinking about Potter in…_any_ way other than homicidal." There was a strange grimace on her face, and a note of bewildered awe in her voice.

"Yeah," Tracey said, "I'm still wrapping my head around that one…" She tucked a honey-blonde lock behind her ear and brushed some crumbs from her shirtfront and the duvet.

Raven turned away and contemplated for a moment, before Daphne's softened voice broke through her thoughts.

"Or…you can become completely unavailable, and win him back by playing hard-to-get."

Raven smirked and Tracey tittered.

"We've still got a bit of Slytherin in us yet, I think," Raven replied, setting her half-full glass on the nightstand and stretching a bit. "Do you really think that'll work?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I don't see why not. He _loves_ you, Raven. Draco doesn't give his heart away easily. If he had, he would have been a lot more distressed over Pansy."

That comment made Raven bite her lower lip. That was the thing that Raven knew, and Daphne and Tracey didn't. Yes, Draco hadn't been as distraught as people would have thought about Pansy's death, but he hadn't shown much emotion when Vincent or his mother had died either. It wasn't that he didn't care; at that point, he just didn't show emotion to anyone. That was how it went.

Raven had gone to him on the evening after his mother's death; on a twilight so cold that even the orangey glow of the setting sun did nothing to make it seem warmer. It only gave the shadows more berth, and Draco had sat in the gardens of Malfoy Manor at Wiltshire, staring for hours and hours, until Raven couldn't bear to not let him know that she had come as soon as she could. That she had begged her Lord for a few moments to spend with the young Malfoy, abandoning her spy work for a few hours at most. Voldemort had been most displeased with her request, but saw her devotion to the other pureblood as a strange sort of acquiescence to the truth that purebloods should only ever unite with other purebloods. Any Muggle ties, and there was no good sense in letting you live.

She had placed her hands on his shoulders from behind, and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, which she had found to be cold and wet. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge her presence, just simply sat there, and let her hold him in a fond and loving embrace.

That had been the changing point in their relationship. They had become good acquaintances, friends even, through Blaise, but after that, he had taken to writing her long letters when they were apart, talking about nothing and everything. She wrote just as long letters back, amazed that she could keep her unbridled love for him in the background; veiled by friendly love and concern. He uncharacteristically didn't hide the need for those things from her, but didn't openly acknowledge it either. It had been hard for her not to break into her old habits of seducing what she wanted, because she wanted Draco _so_ much; so very, very much. But there was this disquiet ache in her chest that drove her to sympathies that Draco had unconsciously told her he needed.

So no, Daphne wouldn't have had any idea that Draco had cared so much for other people. He didn't show it, after all, and while Daphne had not been a Death Eater, she had been at Pansy's funeral, and never realised just how much her death might have affected him. Pansy was Draco's first, as it was, and she loved him in her own way, even if he was unsure of his own level of feeling in return.

And only Blaise and Raven had ever really seen what the familial betrayal of his father had cost him in terms of trust and love.

But that line of thought was better left for other times.

"Yes, I suppose so," Raven said quietly, not entirely sure she believed it.

"Oh, he _does_, Raven," Tracey put in. "He adores you. And haven't you said that you two have been through so much? He can't just ignore that so suddenly for…Potter." She said the last word as if there was some type of interesting candy on her tongue, and she was unsure if it was sweet or sour.

"Yes, I know," Raven sighed, picking up another biscuit and grabbing her glass of milk. "I guess I'll just…act cold and distant until he apologises."

Daphne smiled and Tracey said, "I'm hoping it'll take more than that from him for you to take him back."

Raven smiled a rakish smile. "Oh yes. I've still got a few things that need finishing between us before he'll think he's off the hook."

The three girls giggled, and Raven felt the slight weight in her chest abate somewhat, but in the back of her mind, even in her dreams, she knew that something wasn't quite right…something was going to happen, and more than anything, she hoped she could find out what it was before it came. Because she had the feeling, had been having it for weeks actually; that what was coming was going to end badly.

* * *

_Another nightmare about to come true_

_Will manifest tomorrow_

_Another love that I've taken from you_

_Lost in time, on the edge of suffering_

_Another taste of the evil I breed_

_Will level you completely_

_Bring to life everything that you fear_

_Live in the dark and the world is threatening

* * *

_

Draco knew he was awake before he opened his eyes. As he slowly slid into conscious awareness, his eyelids lifted slowly in response. It was still dark out, but he could feel that dawn was fast approaching. Turning his torso slightly, he rubbed his left eye and tried to focus on the surface of the white ceiling in his modest cottage dorm room. The memories he held of the day and night before crept into the fore of his sleep-muddled mind and he felt a jolt like tingling fire through his body.

_Oh… Harry._

Turning his head further to the left, he saw next to him the object of his day's first thoughts. _Wow,_ he thought softly, awed by his current reality. Harry was obviously shirtless, and if Draco remembered correctly, the man's boxers were also strewn somewhere about the room. His left arm was flung over his head; that chiselled face tucked into his shoulder, and his other arm lay loosely over his broad chest.

Carefully, so as not to wake the other man, Draco turned over, watching Harry as he slept. He could see a faded bruise in the soft skin between Harry's neck and shoulder, a place where Draco had found great pleasure in suckling last night. Using a gentle hand, Draco brushed the backs of his fingers over the bare skin of Harry's arm; making Harry's face twitch in Draco's direction before slightly tanned skin disappeared under the deep emerald duvet, and Harry rolled over, away from Draco.

Draco sighed softly, his thoughts turning maudlin. His groin was still tingling, but this usual pleasurable feeling was only causing him discomfort. As great as things had been last night, and as lost as he had felt being touched by and touching Harry, Draco had not forgotten what else had happened between him and Raven.

Sighing again, but louder this time and in frustration, Draco gingerly got out of the bed, crossing to his wardrobe to find a pair of pyjama pants to don. It was no use trying to find his boxers in the mess of clothes around the bed; he had more important things to think about than trying to separate his and Harry's garments. Like the journal.

He lit a lone candle at the far corner of his semi-cluttered desk, glancing back over to Harry to make sure he hadn't woken him. Taking the long flat box from his desk drawer, Draco sat, drawing the elegant white quill from the black velvet. He dipped his hand back into the drawer and came back up with a slender journal. He paused slightly, unsure if he should even bother with the journal for Raven anymore…but placed the end of the quill in his mouth and sucked on it anyway, before placing it against the parchment in the book and setting it aside, concentrating on what had happened yesterday, letting the memory-quill work it's magic.

After five minutes or so of heavy and confusing thought, he opened his eyes and grabbed a quill from the holder on his desk, his favourite ink well, and the _other_ journal, which was buried beneath some papers. He would have to remember not to leave it out anymore…he had no idea how far someone's curiosity could go, and he didn't want to find out. In fact, remembering to constantly lock the drawer to his desk would be a good thing too.

Wetting the nib, he paused for a moment, listening to the scratch of the memory-quill, Harry's slow breathing, and the flickering of the candle. Taking a deep breath, he wrote:

_12 October 2003_

_I don't even know where to begin; my thoughts are such a jumbled, overbearing mess._

_It's early in the morning; the sun is about to show signs of wakening, and all I can think about is Harry, what we did last night, and Raven._

_Oh Merlin, Raven._

_I can't deny that I meant every word I said last night; but I was under the impression that Harry was indeed not ready for any sort of contact._

_How wrong I was._

_I thought after giving a hand-job to Harry in the art wing that we'd just come back here, and he'd reciprocate. Apparently, I underestimated the long repressed sexual frustration of a twenty-three year old man. Good _Lord,_ how did Potter manage all these years just getting himself off?_

_It truly baffles me._

_So the second we get into my room, he's all over me. I barely had the sense to cast some privacy spells before I couldn't think anymore. I'm still not sure I remember it all. There was a lot of fumbling…and we tripped at one point and Harry knocked hard into the bedpost. I think he'll have a bit of a bruise for that one. We managed to get into the bed, or I should say, _on_to the bed, before Harry decided that the best way to learn how to suck cock was to just do it. So he did._

_It wasn't the best, of course, but I never much allowed for that sort of thing with my other partners…so the only basis I have is just as eager attempts by Pansy so, so many years ago, and a few by my more experienced Raven. But Harry improved quite quickly, it almost made me wonder if he'd been given one before and remembered what he liked himself; though I think he was just barely aware enough to postulate what would probably feel good…or perhaps…_

_Now that I think about it, he still has that book, hasn't he?_

_Huh. I think he's been reading up._

_After that, it was just a lot of groping and snogging…most of which is still fuzzy in my head. I remember he traced his fingers over my scar again, when we lay side-by-side. He seemed lost in thought, just holding my hand and kissing my shoulder…_

_Maybe that's all there really was. A hand-job, a blowjob, and a few kisses? I just remember being thoroughly worn out by the time I fell asleep._

_But wait…I remember a bit more. We…sort of…well, we didn't have sex in any rate, but I definitely remember me rolling on top of him and rubbing our bodies together until we got off again…? Yes. That's what it was. Kind of how like Raven and I do, but…not. Harry doesn't feel at all like Raven. But I _like_ the way he feels. _Alot._ He's got the greatest body; really…I could stare at it all day. I can't pick a part I like more. Looking at him this morning, while he's still asleep…I can't believe he was ever that street urchin in those ridiculously large clothes I met all those years ago—scrawny and awkward._

_He was so eager, and ready, and we could have gone all the way, I think…but I'm sure even Harry realised at some point that he wasn't quite ready. I think my warning earlier is actually lingering. I'll be honest and say that while Harry's kissing me, I would never be able to say 'no', but at the same time, I don't want Harry to regret it. Do I regret my first time? No, I don't think so. I was too young to care about the feelings that could be attached. I really didn't care, even though I cared as much as I could for her. For Pansy._

_Okay…that's the second time that path wants to come up, but I'm not going down it. I'd much rather stay on Harry._

_I want him. So much I'm almost willing to wake him right now and have a go. God, my prick aches with it. And Harry…well, he's probably as ready as they'll ever come. I know I was when I first starting messing around._

_So, what I said to Raven was not a lie as I knew it, but now that I'm not completely surrounded by a rather randy Potter, I'm realising just how much my words might have hurt her. She told me that she wouldn't be around anymore. But does that mean we've broken up? That we'll never be together again? I don't know. I'm no good at this relationship stuff…I've never really been in one before. I just let her walk away, so does that mean I thought we should break up too? I don't want that to be the case, of course, but I just can't figure out how I got into this bloody mess._

_And by 'mess' I mean that I'm in love with Raven and I have been for years. I'm in love with Harry, and I only realised it a few days ago, but it feels like forever. Raven and I never really talked about all the possibilities for relationship changes in pursuing this, and I never actually thought _I'd_ fall for Harry. I never thought I'd have the feeling that I needed to choose between the two of them. And Gods, if I could, I never would, as selfish as that sounds. Isn't that just like Raven, though? She wants us both too._

_But the irony still gets me that I'm feeling anything for Harry at all; I was just supposed to do it, get in and out and with a minimum of grief on all sides. Mess around with Potter, finally be with Raven…then drop Potter somewhere along the way and get _on_ with my life. It was never supposed to _mean_ anything. Not for me, and not for Potter. At least from my point of view. But I think—no, I _know_ that it was Raven's plan all along to get us liking each other…really, how could we get together any other way? _

_And now I'm stuck with him, I can feel it._

_Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Fuck if I know. Right now, I can't imagine just chucking Harry out of my life—going back to the way things were before—but I can't let him stay. He says that he should make his own decision about me, about Raven, about _us_. And I agree; really, I do. But it's just not _right._ It never was. I was a fool to let Raven talk me into pursuing this. And all to get _laid.

_What the _fuck_ is wrong with me? I must be the biggest and most oblivious arsehole in the—_

Draco silently set his quill down upon hearing the rustling of fabric behind him. Quickly and quietly, he shoved the book he'd been writing in under some papers. Scrambling, he took some other leaflets and draped them across the now unmoving memory-quill and journal in the corner of the desk. He straightened and turned to see Harry just sitting up, rubbing at his right eye to rid it of sleep-bogeys. The dawn outside had crept up behind Draco without his being aware of it; but now, when the soft golden hue shined squares across Harry's even more golden torso, Draco couldn't help but notice.

"Draco?" Harry asked in a gruff voice riddled with sleep, looking in his direction, but squinting without his glasses on.

"Yeah?" Draco responded, standing.

"What are you doing? Why are you over there?"

Draco shrugged, moving back to the bed and under the duvet. "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?" Harry lay down next to him, leaning over and almost hesitantly pressing a timid kiss to Draco's lips.

Draco kissed him back, smiling slightly, but sighed, rolling onto his back, breaking his eye contact with the other man. "About…about, er…last night," Harry smiled shyly, though Draco didn't catch this, continuing on with, "…and Raven."

Harry's smile faltered as he remembered the muffled argument he heard last night. And then Draco's numerous warnings about the consequences of Harry's hormonal-driven actions. He felt a little twinge of guilt in his stomach upon realising that he'd been so caught up in getting himself satiated that he had forgotten the blonde's falling out with Raven. Raven, the wily and charming artist that caught even Harry's eye. And then he just switched full-throttle to her _boyfriend._ To Draco.

He cleared his throat. "So, er…what are you going to do about…Raven?" _And us,_ he silently added.

Draco sighed and rested an arm on his forehead. "I'm…not sure. I know I need to talk to her, but I'm not sure if she'll want to talk to me."

Harry nodded. It was understandable, though Harry realised that he had no idea what Draco _really_ felt like. He himself had never been in a similar situation, let alone fathomed becoming part of a triangle that should have seemed improbable. But he could understand why Raven might not want to talk to Draco.

They lay there for a few moments in silence, watching the morning shadows move slowly across the walls of the room. Then Draco spoke again.

"Harry…I think…I think we might need to…" God, this was hard to say without hurting the other man's feelings, but Draco had to do it.

"What, Draco?" Harry could hear the barely traceable tremor in Draco's voice, and it made him much more alert, his heart speeding up slightly, and his body tense. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like hearing whatever Draco had to say.

He was right.

Draco lowered his arm to his side, staring resolutely up at the ceiling. "I think we need to step back for a moment. Stop—stop whatever is going on between us before it goes too-"

Harry sat up, his brows furrowing in puzzlement and frustration. "What? Goes too far? What the hell, Draco? Didn't I tell you last night that _I_ can make this decision for myself?" Despite lying naked in bed with the pale man all night, Harry felt the urge to pull the black sheets more securely around his very unclothed waist.

Draco sat up as well, a pained look on his face and a flush to his cheeks. "Yes, Harry, you did, but-"

"Then again, what the hell? I _want_ to be with you like—like, well—like _this_!" He gestured between them.

Draco sighed, looking down and chewing his lip. This was not going well. "I'm not saying I don't like it either, I just…I need some time to sort things out with Raven. And I think you need some time to sort out your sexuality," Draco ended matter-of-factly with a calm gaze at Harry.

Any retort Harry had ready on his lips died at that last comment. The last _two_ comments, actually. _My sexuality?_ He never had to think about his…his _sexuality._ It was never an issue. He kissed and…_groped_ Draco because he wanted to. He was tired of worrying about the fact that Draco was a guy and just did it. Went with the flow. What did his sexuality matter? "My sexuality?" his mouth echoed.

"Yes," Draco replied. "You obviously are attracted to blokes, but what about girls? You told me you liked Raven, and then within the week you were snogging me and Chaikovsky."

Harry frowned. "So? Can't I like both?"

"Of course you can."

"Like you so obviously do."

Draco halted. "No. I don't obviously like both."

"Then what the hell am I?"

Draco huffed. "Look, Potter, this isn't about me, it's about you-"

"Bullshit."

The colour rose high on Draco's cheeks. "You are the only guy I've ever kissed," he bit out, "and I'm certainly _not_ inclined to kiss any more."

"But you still like both."

"No, I just like you."

"Same thing."

"No, it's not, you insufferable brat."

"How so?"

"_You,_ Potter. Harry. I like _you._"

Harry paused before a soft 'oh' passed his lips. Then he smiled triumphantly. "But that's still liking both."

Draco let out a frustrated growl before regaining control. Harry smirked like Draco had to him so many times.

"Exactly," Harry said. "So now that that's settled-"

"I still have to figure out what's going on with Raven and I." Draco cut off flatly.

That made Harry's heart stop short for a moment. "I understand, Draco…but what about that offer you made me last night? The one where you offered the same as Raven—to be my friend or lover, whichever one I needed?"

Draco grimaced at the memory. "And that still stands, Harry. But I…I don't want to lose Raven, either. And no offence, but you might complicate things at the moment. I want her and I to be okay, before we…you and me, continue, if that's what we do. I hate it when Raven's mad at me. Especially for my own stupidity. I love her."

The sudden tightness in his throat surprised Harry. He'd wanted to hear those three words towards himself for ages…but it didn't look like it was going to happen. At least not any time soon, and not from Draco. Or Raven.

"What do I do, in the meantime?" Harry asked sullenly, not able to look Draco in the eye. There was a clenching in his ribcage that was starting to make itself known quite painfully.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know, Harry. I'm sorry, I really am. But I…I'm just as confused as you are, and I feel like a right prat right now-"

"You are," Harry interceded.

Draco smiled slightly and ploughed on, "You could always help me lure Raven back…"

Harry shook his head, scowling at Draco's suggestion. "No. I don't think so. She's probably mad at me too. God, she'll probably kill me if she finds out what happened last night…" he trailed off, looking troubled out of the window past the bed. He was just now realising what his hormonal-driven actions the night before might have wrought. Any thoughts he had had about it last night went completely out the window at some point that Harry couldn't remember.

Draco snorted softly in response to Harry's words. "She'll castrate us both, Potter."

Harry looked over sharply. "Really?" he asked in mild alarm.

Draco sniggered. "No…not in the literal sense. At least, I hope not. I'm hoping she'll be happy. She wants _you_ to be happy."

"I'm happy with you." Harry was vaguely aware that he was starting to sound like a petulant child.

"I understand that, but-"

"But what?" And now he was cross.

Draco sighed. "It's not like we're—_boyfriends_, Harry. I think you should try seeing someone else for a while."

"What! Like who?" That hurt blossomed in his chest again, and he couldn't believe what Draco had just said. It was going against Draco's own offer at a relationship!

"Chaikovsky, for one."

It was Harry's turn to snort, crossing his arms and looking away. "Like that's going to work."

"Why not? He likes you, it seems, and you didn't totally blow him off, did you?" At Harry's shake of head Draco asked, "Then why wouldn't it work?"

"He's my Captain, that's why."

"So?"

"It would be like favouritism, Draco."

"Again, so?"

Harry let out his own frustrated growl. "You aren't going to change your mind, are you?"

"Harry, look. I like you, I really do. But I've just got to sort this out with Raven…I can't just _abandon_ her because you've decided that you'd like to have a go with me."

"I'm not asking you to abandon her!" Harry shot back incredulously.

"And I'm not asking you to give up on what _could _be! But _Merlin_, Harry, I was your first _real_ kiss! Your first…your first _anything_! I think you should try things out with other people before you decide if you want to pursue a relationship with me, or with Raven, or with the both of us!"

"And what makes you think I'll come back if I go with Mikhail? Who's to say that we don't stay together?"

"Then so be it. You weren't meant to be with either of us, if that's the case."

"You're willing to give this up-"

"You don't even know what 'this' is-"

"-because you were my _first_? Bollocks."

"I don't _want_ to give up _anything_, Potter. But I can't let you just…_fall_ for either or both of us, when there's so much more out there for you to do!"

"Like what? Heard any rumours about a Dark Lord lately?" Harry mocked.

Draco stopped for a moment, stung. "No. I have not. You could experience so many different things Harry, if you'll just leave yourself open to them."

"What, like you probably did? I don't even want to know how many girls you had your cock stuck in before I came along."

Draco's jaw dropped open in shock. He never would have thought such words would have ever tumbled from those ruby lips that caressed his own and his body last night. And from the look on Harry's face, he was rather surprised at his own exclamation too. But Draco's chest hurt too much, and all he could reply in a mumble was, "I think you should leave."

"Draco, I-"

"I know you're sorry. But I need to be alone right now. You need to go."

Harry felt his heart breaking in two, in a way he'd never felt before. Did he really care about Draco that much? _Yes_, he realised. He did. Maybe he _was_ being selfish…he wanted that feeling again, that exhilarating feeling that had consumed him last night. All he wanted was to take Draco into his arms and touch that pale skin again, and claim that mouth, and… Harry blinked his eyes and looked away. And he might never get to again. He couldn't _believe_ he just said what he did. But he couldn't change it, and Draco had asked him to leave, so he would.

Slowly, not looking at his friend-turned-lover-turned…what? What were they? Harry moved about the bed, collecting his clothes and things and putting them on. Shoving his feet in his trainers, he took one last look at Draco, who had kept his gaze in his lap the entire time, and left quietly through the door.

* * *

Harry went home directly after leaving Draco's. He felt wretched, and the bright autumn sun was doing nothing for his mood. 

It was still fairly early as Harry quietly made his way into his dorm, which still lay silent. None of his dorm mates were privy to getting up before noon on the weekends. And, he mused, neither was he. He trudged up to his room, shutting the door behind him and slumping back against it. Kicking his shoes off rather violently, he threw himself on his bed; letting the quiet permeate his ears before growling in frustration and turning over to bury his face in his pillow.

He was angry—with himself for the hurtful things he said, and at Draco for, well…being a prat, he supposed. Harry rolled back over and sighed. Draco had a point; getting things all right between him and Raven was priority; but why did Draco have to shut Harry out to do it? Couldn't Harry be there to help? It was like Draco was practically telling him that they couldn't be friends, either. And why on earth would Draco want Harry to date someone else? Especially after what happened last night? It made no sense. Unless…

That was why. Maybe Harry was just horrible at…at… What was the word the book used? Fellatio? Yes, fellatio, that was it. Maybe Harry was just bad at it. Maybe he should just…stick to girls. Or…something.

Harry frowned. That couldn't be it. He'd gotten Draco off, hadn't he? So he must have been good enough. Then what was it? Maybe it wasn't Harry; maybe Draco just…regretted it? Thought it messed up their friendship? Just wanted some time to sort things out with Raven, like he said?

Harry didn't know. And he wasn't sure what to make of Draco's suggestion to see Mikhail. Harry liked Draco, clearly; they got along, and Harry's body could only react in an embarrassing manner upon remembering the sight of Draco's naked body beneath him. And it wasn't that Harry didn't like Mikhail—he had never thought about liking or not liking him before—but why would he just date Mikhail when he so obviously liked Draco, and wanted something more with him? Even after Mikhail kissed him, and he wasn't sure he could really, truly like Mikhail...at least not as much as he felt he liked Draco. But again, if Draco was going to push him away, where else could Harry experience those wonderful feelings that he'd been missing out on all these years?

Gods, how could he let go of what he'd discovered with Draco last night? How could anyone?

So, upon Draco being a prat, for whatever reason, Harry knew he needed to keep a hold of some bodily contact with another person, for however long it took for Draco to come to his senses, or he was going to lose his own. Merlin, that man was like hot and cold; one minute, he's practically telling you he loves you and wants to try and have a three-way relationship with you and his recently estranged girlfriend, and the next, he wants some space to fix things with his girlfriend. But in between that, why not snog and get each other off?

Harry sighed again. This was ridiculous. Did Draco really want Harry to see someone else, or was that just a ruse to get Harry to back off? Should Harry date Mikhail just to see if it would make Draco jealous? Would Mikhail be able to provide at least _something _akin to what he felt with Draco?

Harry decided he would talk to Mikhail on Monday…maybe they could work something out. Mikhail did like him after all, and he was pretty good looking, Harry supposed; different than Draco, but then no one was quite like Draco. Mikhail was a nice guy, and Harry was hoping that that would translate into 'good boyfriend material'. He mused that they could try it out; logically speaking, it was probably healthier and saner than getting involved with Draco and Raven. That was likely to be a mess regardless of how Harry felt about them. Speaking of which…

Harry needed to talk to Raven sometime that day, before Draco tried to talk to her. Explain things from his point of view and soften her up for Draco (whom she was likely to not listen to at all) if she was mad. Harry wasn't quite sure how he knew that, but he knew that Hermione had the tendency to do the same thing, so it probably applied to Raven as well. A nudge in Harry's mind wondered why he was bothering to help Draco out at all, since he _was_ being such a prat, but Harry brushed it aside. As pissed and upset as he was at Draco, he couldn't let his friends' relationship go sour because of a misunderstanding.

So today, Raven. Tomorrow, Mikhail.

* * *

Harry busied himself in those early hours by taking a shower, but the shower only brought his thoughts around to Draco as he not only smelled Draco slightly on his jumper, but he noticed a small love bite in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. So he tried to start on his potions essay that was due that week, but the potions essay only made him think of Draco again when he looked through the chart he and Draco had been working on for two weeks. There was a slight twinge in his chest, and Harry frowned each time. Gods, this sucked. 

Sighing resignedly, Harry slipped on his denim jacket and trainers, making his way downstairs and ignoring dorm mates' sleepy questions and looks of confusion at Harry's sombre demeanour. Only a few of them traded looks remembering that Harry didn't come home last night. At least not while they were up in the late hours of the night.

The morning was still crisp, it only being around eight or nine A.M. As Harry approached Number Four from across the courtyard, he noticed that Draco was just stepping out of Number Three and making his own way over to his girlfriend's place. Draco was dressed in all black, as was usual, but he went sans coat, which Harry thought was kind of odd, seeing as it was so cold out that morning. Harry wondered if it was a punishment of sorts, but could think no more on it as he got closer to the blond. Draco's fists clenched as he caught sight of Harry, and the dark-haired man just took a deep breath and steeled himself for the inevitable. Draco stopped just before the stairs of Number Four, waiting for Harry to catch up to him.

Crossing his wool-clad arms across his chest, Draco said with a little bite, "Come to see Raven, Potter?"

Harry frowned at Draco's cold manner and use of his surname. "Yes, _Draco,_" Harry stressed, and noted when Draco looked quickly away and let out a little breath.

"Look, Harry, I don't want to make this awkward-"

But Harry cut him off. "You made this awkward yourself, Draco. I can handle you wanting some…space, or whatever this is, but you don't have to be an ass about it."

"He does that when he doesn't know what else to do, Harry. Bastard 'til the end, huh, Draco?"

Both men turned to see Raven standing in the doorway to Number Four, dressed in a thick green jumper and scarf, with charcoal grey corduroy pants on. She closed the door behind her and stepped forward.

Draco walked straight up to her, saying, "Raven, love, we need to talk. I need to explain-"

She stopped in front of him, levelling an easy glare into his eyes. "I don't want an explanation from you right now, Draco. I want to talk to Harry." Then she moved past him, stepping off the stairs and taking Harry's hand in hers. "Don't follow us, Draco. We will know if you do," she said without glancing back, moving forward with Harry in tow.

Harry cast a torn look up at Draco, who was struck dumb on the porch, his mouth slightly open, watching them go with a visibly hurt expression. Though Harry was still rather pissed at Draco, the look on his friend's face worried him. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, before turning to follow Raven.

"Don't worry about him, Harry," Raven whispered. "He'll be back to his old self in no time."

"But what about you two?" Harry whispered back.

Raven looked over at him before squeezing his hand. "We'll see."

They walked in silence the whole way, Harry's hand sweating nervously. He didn't like this situation at all. Raven just brushed Draco off like he didn't matter, and now it looked as if he and Raven were going to…get together or something. Well, not _really_, but Draco probably didn't see it that way. Harry sighed quietly. He supposed this was just how Slytherins acted, and he couldn't do much about that.

Raven led them through the woods to the cove…Draco's spot. Her spot. Harry's new spot. _Their_ spot. The sun was filtering prettily through the leaves, casting rays of yellow-orange light on the earth. The ground was still a little damp from the rain earlier that week, and Harry and Raven slipped a few times on wet leaves. It was this sort of weather Harry liked, even though he wasn't sure if autumn was really his favourite time of year. The air was crisp and clean, and smelled of earth and rain.

They sat down on the edge, Harry dangling his feet, and Raven curling up beside him.

After a long moment of companionable silence, Harry spoke his thoughts. "Draco cares about you very much…why wouldn't you listen to him?" Harry realised that what he said was against his earlier thoughts of wanting to talk to Raven first, but brushed that quickly away as Raven responded.

"Because I wanted to talk to you first, like I said. I wanted to know what happened after I left. From you."

Harry let out a quiet breath. "Raven…Draco didn't mean to yell at you last night. He didn't know…" he trailed off.

"Didn't know what, Harry?" the woman asked, turning to look at him.

Harry blanched, nervous about sharing this next bit of information. "A-after you left, Draco and I talked, um, about what had been bothering me." Raven made a non-committal humming noise, so Harry continued. "Well, you see…I've been…having some thoughts…about…about, er, sex and stuff."

"Oh?" Her voice held a faint trace of amusement.

"Er, yeah. And Draco, well he—he showed me that book you gave him, and we looked through it…um…"

"And?" Raven was looking at him now, a smile playing on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to push his slight embarrassment down, "And, well, on Friday night, I went out with Mikhail, right, for drinks, and well he…he kissed me." Though he was pretty open with his two newest friends, because of the subject matter and whom it involved, he still felt a little awkward. They hadn't really ever talked about stuff like this before.

Raven's mouth opened in surprise. "He did? Wow…" She looked away for a moment before saying slowly, as if working it out as she spoke: "Is that why you were acting so weird being naked near Draco? You didn't know if you liked the kiss or not? If you were gay?"

Harry nodded, relief flooding him that Raven grasped the situation so quickly. "Yeah. I just…that was my first kiss, you know? Since, er, fifth year at Hogwarts."

Raven's brows rose. "Really? I didn't know that. Well…_did_ you like it?" she asked.

Harry cast about in his mind, which was so far away from Friday night he wasn't sure if he remembered. He settled on, "Yeah…I think so."

"I'm really sorry I put you in that situation, Harry. It must have been very uncomfortable for you. I wish you would have said something before you nearly fainted."

Harry shook his head. "It's alright. I'm more worried about you and Draco right now, regardless of how much of a prat he's being."

"Has something else happened I don't know about?"

The ex-Gryffindor nodded, looking away and out to the sea.

"I've been…well, noticing Draco, I guess. Like noticing how good-looking he is. Only this week really, but he told me last night that he…" Harry hesitated for a moment, but decided just to plough ahead and tell her everything, "That he cared for me like you do; that he'd like to be there for me, either as a friend or a-a lover, and, I don't know, I guess I sort of took advantage of that and the fact that I've been unbelievably, er…" Harry paused, unsure of how to go on, but his blush and bashful grin said it all.

"Horny?" Raven suggested, and Harry's blush deepened.

"Er…yeah. And so we…kissed." It was just a breath of a word, but it held so much behind it.

Harry wanted desperately to know how Raven felt, but could not look up into her eyes, no matter how much he knew he should.

"I see." was her own quiet response.

Harry had to look up then, to see Raven's profile looking out to sea, not any recognisable expression on her face, except perhaps deep thoughtfulness and a silent searching in her eyes.

Harry wanted to say something, but was really quite afraid to ruin the quiet. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. It wasn't that the silence was pleasant, oh no, it was in fact quite tense, but he did not trust himself to say anything that wouldn't upset the woman next to him.

She looked sad for a brief moment, and then finally turned to Harry. "Harry, I'm not—mad. Really. I just… I'm really happy for you and Draco, I knew he cared about you, but I just wonder what that means for Draco and I. I didn't want things to be like this between us, when, well…when I thought of the three of us being together, to put it bluntly. But if…if you two want to be together, I can't stop you."

Harry was stricken. He wasn't sure what to think. "Raven, the last thing I want to do is break you and Draco up. You're my friends, and my attraction to Draco and…you, won't change that fact. I should go off and find someone else, really. You and Draco should be together."

Raven bit her lip. "Harry, don't get all self-sacrificing Gryffindor on me now…"

Harry chucked quietly, but sobered. "No, I think Draco was right. This morning. He told me that he needed to get things straight with you, so I should go date someone else."

"He said that?" Incredulity laced her tone.

"Yeah," Harry said a little sullenly.

"It sounds like you don't actually agree, Harry."

The dark-haired man sighed. "It's not that so much. I mean he's right…me trying to…_be_ with Draco, I guess, would only make things between you two harder right now. I know you love each other, and I…I can't compete with that. I _do_ really like Draco, though. And I…I don't want to just put on hold whatever it was we started, because I _liked_ it. I really did. I've never felt like that before. And…" Harry sighed, "Draco suggested I try and date Mikhail."

"Hmmm," the woman pondered. After a moment, she unwrapped one arm from around her legs and patted him on the knee. "I think you should go for it."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yes. But not because I don't think that Draco's not being a prat. That was a rude thing to do, kissing you like that and sort of…leading you on, then dropping you. But I'm assuming when you say 'this morning' that you two did a little more than kiss?" At Harry's eyes lighting up, his avoiding gaze, and a badly repressed grin, she continued. "So, use this opportunity to get back at him a little. Date Mikhail a while, make Draco jealous, because it will, and when the opportune moment comes, take Draco by surprise. He won't know what hit him."

Harry stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"What? No. Raven, no. I can't do that! What about Mikhail? How do you think he'll feel, being used like that?"

"Just break up with him. Tell him that things aren't working out. Which they won't, if you're keen enough to get Draco back. Or tell him that you've fallen for someone else or something."

Harry tilted his head back in exasperation. "How can you suggest this? I mean, really?" He looked back down at her. "Don't you want Draco back for yourself?"

"I've got my own way of dealing with him. I'm going to make him wait a little longer. He's been so intent on you and how you're doing, that he's forgotten that we're in a relationship, and that I need attention too." At Harry's stricken face, she added, "But don't you go feeling bad about that. I've been rather worried about you myself. So—I say we both make him stew a little while longer…it'll teach him a powerful lesson."

"And what's that?"

"Never mess with the dark-haired, green-eyed variety. We're extremely volatile."

Harry snorted. "God, Draco's going to kill us when he finds out…"

Raven smirked. "All the more reason."

"So how are you going to make him wait? Ignore him some more?"

"Well, there's that."

"I hear an 'and' in there."

"_And_ I'm hoping you'll help me with the rest."

"How so?"

"Act like you're on my side. Spend time with me, generally ignore Draco, and…mess around with Mikhail." She chuckled. "Draco really gave me something with suggesting that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll try. He does deserve it. Or something. For being so damn…insensitive."

"Hmmm. Yes, I agree."

They sat for a moment, the wind picking up and tossing their hair to and fro, stinging their cheeks and eyes.

"Do you want to head back?" Harry asked. "It's getting a bit nippy out here."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea."

"Winter's coming soon, huh?"

"Indeed it is," she replied.

They stood, Harry helping the girl up, and they made their way back through the woods, their fingers comfortably but loosely intertwined.

"I'm glad I wore corduroys today," she remarked, letting go of Harry's hand to climb over the fallen log in the path.

"It's the first time I've seen you without a skirt on," Harry said, hopping over the log and re-taking Raven's hand in his.

"I generally like skirts better…probably has something to do with my pure-blood wizarding heritage." Harry raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to interpret her words and non-committal tone.

"So," Raven said, "What exactly did you and Draco do last night?" Her voice was teasing, but inside, she was nervous about what she was going to find out. Far under all the nosy and rather voyeuristic tendencies she had, of course.

Harry blushed and bit his lip to hide his smile. "We…got off a few times, is all."

"How?" Raven's voice sounded eager, and Harry couldn't help but notice.

He shot her a raised eyebrow before saying, "A hand-job, a blowjob; the usual, I guess."

An almost evil glint formed in Raven's green eyes. "Interesting…"

"Why?" Harry asked, a smile half-formed on his face.

"Oh, no reason…" she smirked.

"Bull," he retorted. "You like knowing that sort of stuff, don't you? That's why you gave Draco the book…you _wanted _us to look at it together didn't you?"

"Why, Harry James Potter, however did you guess?" she said coquettishly. Laughing, she said, "Okay, I'll admit, I've got a bit of hedonistic voyeurism in me."

"Oh, only that." Harry jibed, as they stepped out of the woods.

"_Yes, _only that," she sniffed. "Well, mostly."

Harry laughed, letting Raven lead him back to Number Four. Draco was sitting on the steps when they arrived.

He stood as they approached, and Raven held on a bit tighter to Harry's hand, while the laughter died from his lips, and they easily fell into a solemn line.

Raven walked straight past Draco, dragging Harry with her. Draco looked hurt and perhaps a little pissed at her blatant dismissal, but Harry tried to ignore it as best he could. When they reached the front door, Raven turned to him, giving him a warm hug, which made Harry feel rather awful for returning right in front of Draco. When she pulled back, she leaned forward again and whispered lowly into his ear, "Remember what we talked about, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow." Then with a quick kiss on the cheek, she disappeared inside.

Harry was hit with a sad glare as he turned around, and tried to hide his wince. Shit. What was Raven trying to do? Get him killed? _Merlin…_

"Hello, Draco."

"What the fuck was that, Harry? When I suggested you try and date someone else, I didn't mean my girlfriend. I meant Mikhail, whom I believe I suggested."

Harry sighed. He was no good at this sort of thing. "We're not dating, Draco. She's just being how she always is around me. You're just looking at it differently now that she's mad at you, and not at me." Harry moved to step down from the porch but Draco caught his arm.

"What did you say? About us?"

"I told her what happened."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Everything?"

"A condensed version," Harry said curtly, tugging his arm out of Draco's grip. The anger from earlier that morning came back, and now all Harry wanted to do was get away from Draco. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some homework to do." And Harry started off across the courtyard.

Draco took a quick glance back at the closed door of Number Four, and chanced his luck in the opposite direction. "Harry!"

"What?"

"Are you still upset with me?"

Harry stopped and turned to Draco. "What do you think?"

Draco blanched, but quickly stepped in front of Harry as he turned to walk away. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I really, really like you. But I just need to sort things out with Raven, you understand. You saw how she's acting towards me."

"Do whatever you want Draco, I don't care. And Raven's not at all happy with you after I told her what happened this morning, just so you know. So, good luck with that. Have a happy life." Harry then turned away from Draco's stricken face and walked to his dormitory.

And even in his anger, Harry felt shameful at having to inflict that kind of worry and pain in his friend. But it was only fitting, with the pain from earlier that morning still raw in Harry's chest. Yes. He would talk to Mikhail tomorrow, and hope that it wasn't too late to start something.

* * *

_Let me enlighten you_

_This is the way I pray

* * *

_

Draco Malfoy wasn't one to be easily swayed when he wanted something. If he wanted it, he got it, end of story.

But after Harry brushed him off that morning, all Draco wanted to do was go home and hide under the covers. He didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or eat anything. His life was a fucking mess, and the last thing he felt like doing was facing it. So he tapped into his long-since-visited Slytherin self-preservation, and locked himself up in his room, far away from Raven or Harry.

Shucking off all his clothes and burrowing himself in his bed, he groaned loudly as the smell of his and Harry's sex hit his nose and with a violent jolt, he was flung back to the night before, and his subsequent fuck up early that morning.

Tearing back the covers and jumping quickly out of his bed, he grabbed his wand from the night table and quickly banished his used sheets to the hamper in the corner. Not caring to take the time and put on a fresh set of sheets (even now, he never could quite manage most household spells), he only grabbed a clean comforter and proceeded to wrap himself in it on his sheet-less bed, content with blocking the world out for the rest of his life.

All he had wanted was to talk to Raven, to tell her what happened, and to apologise. But Harry got to her first, and both of them were rather happy with not listening to him. What good would his apologies do if they fell on deaf ears?

So Draco was at a loss of what to do. Raven was one of those people who got rather vindictive and self-servicing when they were mad at you, and this was no exception. Draco knew that what he had said to her the night before wasn't anywhere near as bad as some other things they had yelled at each other in the heat of the moment, but they always managed to bounce back, and Draco was riding his hope that this time, things would be no different.

But really, things were different. For one, those 'things' involved Harry. A pang of resentment and guilt stole through Draco's chest upon remembering not only how he had pushed Harry away, but also what Harry had said to him. He knew that Harry didn't really mean it, but it still hurt. It was odd for Draco to find that someone was willing to settle on their first, because Draco had had no problem finding different partners throughout the years. And knowing what was out there, Draco didn't see any reason to let Harry settle on just him, or Raven. They were still young, and Harry would never have a problem finding someone if he wanted to.

But Harry wasn't like Draco. He was pure-hearted and trusting and loyal, and was possessive and territorial, just like the lions that his old Gryffindor House represented. But it was more than that. They should be beyond all of that House nonsense from Hogwarts by now…but it was something familiar, again, just like his recently discarded animosity for Harry, and it was safer to keep it and remember times before the war than to try and build new profiles, new lives.

But goddammit, he didn't want go back. He wanted Harry. And Raven. He wanted them to not be so angry with him, and he was at a loss as to how to go about mending their relationships.

He _hated_ feeling so damn shaky in regards to the situation. He should know what to do, and should be able to just go do it. He had a feeling that Harry's talk with Raven only fuelled that particular fire more, and now Harry was just as standoffish as Raven, though at least he talked to Draco. And Raven was clearly not going to bother talking to him at all, or acknowledge him either, so he needed to figure out how to approach her. It was like trying to tame a frightened cobra…they'd strike back the second you get within range of their sharp and venomous fangs.

But Harry…maybe he could still talk to Harry. Maybe Harry would help him win Raven back.

Draco hoped and prayed to Merlin that he was right.

* * *

_Living just isn't hard enough_

_Burn me alive, inside_

_Living my life's not hard enough_

_Take everything away

* * *

_

Harry spent most of the day brooding in his room, grabbing a snack or two when he was hungry, and trying his hardest to be diligent about his homework.

But it was still hard.

He couldn't get that look on Draco's face out of his head; that stricken look, the one that probably showed more pain and anger than Draco knew, or was likely to admit. Harry didn't _really_ want to hurt Draco, and he most certainly didn't mean what he had said right before Draco kicked him out of his room. Harry still couldn't believe he said that. Shaking his head of the mental image of Draco's face after he said that, he resolved to do what both Draco and Raven had told him to do: get together with Mikhail.

That would show Draco not to put stupid ideas in a Gryffindor's head. Especially this one.

* * *

"Harry?" Ron knocked on the door before chancing to open it. He found his friend sitting at his desk, scribbling on some parchment. 

"Oh, hey Ron," Harry answered when he glanced behind him.

"Harry mate, you've been holed up in here all day. Would you like to toss the Quaffle a bit before supper?"

Harry set down his quill and massaged his forearm. "Yeah, I'd like that." He smiled a little and grabbed his Firebolt II from the corner of his room, shoving on his trainers as he went.

"You might want to put on a scarf and gloves though, mate. It's really cold outside."

"And you want to throw the Quaffle around?" Harry laughed. "All right. Thanks for letting me know."

While Harry put on an extra layer, and scrounged around for his gloves and old Gryffindor scarf, Ron grabbed his own broom and then they made their way outside. The wind was bitter and whipping about, and Harry was again reminded that winter was fast approaching.

The courtyard was empty, and so Harry and Ron opted to practise there instead of trekking all the way to the pitch. They kicked off, and as Ron threw the Quaffle and the wind tossed it sharply, Harry veered quickly to the left to grab it. They were laughing and yelling, enjoying their time together, and waving at Hermione, Ginny and Luna who were headed over to Number One to start on dinner for everyone. The boys were hardly adept at fending for themselves. It was just easier for the women to cook for them all.

"It's great to see ya, Harry," Ron said, pitching the Quaffle to his friend. "We've missed you, you know."

Harry tossed the ball back. "Yeah, I know, Ron. I've rather missed you guys too."

"Yeah, Malfoy's been hogging all your time lately. I was worried he was converting you over to the 'dark side'," Ron joked, continuing the game, leaving Harry to dive sharply for the ball.

Harry chuckled after his catch. "You needed worry about that, Ron. I won't be spending much time around him anymore." Harry reciprocated the pitch.

Ron couldn't _quite_ hide his glee at Harry's words. "Why? Did 'Princess Draco' decide you were too lowly to be seen in his oh-so-private court anymore?"

Harry caught the deep red ball and held it for a moment, looking at it as if it held the answer to an unasked question, before tossing it back and saying rather abruptly, "I think I like men, Ron."

Ron fumbled the catch, but managed to hug it to his body at the last minute. "Excuse me?" His blue eyes were wide, and his quiet and stunned question was nearly lost in the wind.

Harry flew a bit closer. "I said that I'm attracted to blokes."

Ron gaped at Harry for a moment, frozen on his broom. Gulping visibly, he looked away from Harry, who looked resolute but worried, and gradually Ron lowered his broom to the ground, dismounting just as slowly. Harry followed.

"R-Ron?" Harry whispered, afraid of breaking something that seemed rather fragile all of a sudden. _Oh no…have I just totally ruined twelve years of friendship?_

"Blimey, Harry," Ron exhaled after they stood there for a moment. He still wasn't looking at his friend. "I…I don't know what to say." Harry thought he looked a little peaky.

Shit.

"You don't have to say anything Ron," Harry managed after a deep pause. "I…I shouldn't have just sprung it on you like that."

Ron finally looked up, a furrow in his brow. "Are…are you serious? You really…like…men?"

Now it was Harry's turn to look away and gulp. "Yes, Ron. I mean, I'm attracted to women too, but…" He finally matched Ron's gaze. "I wanted you to know. You're my best mate in he whole world, Ron, and nothing will change that. Ever."

Ron shivered, and Harry wondered if it was just because of the cold wind biting their ears, or the thought of Harry kissing guys. "Let's…go inside Harry. Where it's warm."

Harry nodded, nervously biting his lip. "Okay."

Harry wasn't sure what had made him come out with that realisation to abruptly. But he couldn't hide something like this from Ron, his best friend, who, for better or for worse, was always there for Harry. Harry couldn't see Ron as anything less than a brother, anything less than his own blood, and he prayed to whatever god out there that this discovery of his didn't destroy those bonds that had been formed over so many years.

They walked quietly back to their dorm and stepped gratefully inside to the warmth. Ron was just about to walk up the stairs, not waiting to see if Harry would follow, when Hermione greeted them from the kitchen.

Ron stopped his ascent to look back at his fiancée, and immediately, Hermione stopped what she was doing and came forward, halting just at the threshold of the kitchen, looking at them both with beseeching eyes. Ron looked back at Harry for a brief moment, and Harry nodded.

Ginny watched the non-verbal communication between her brother and friends, and wondered just what was going on so silently and so concisely among them. It was fascinating to watch their quiet interaction, just as it was fascinating to hear George and Fred finish each other's sentences, even after so many years of being privy to their interaction.

Hermione turned suddenly and excused herself in a low voice, following her two best friends upstairs. Ginny and Luna shared a glance, but went on cooking dinner, swatting an overeager Seamus away when he came in to steal a bit of the batter for the chocolate cake that was to be for dessert.

Meanwhile, Ron dropped off his things in his room, and met Hermione and Harry next door in Harry's room, closing the door securely behind him. He stood edgily by the door, wrapping his arms around himself, as Harry stood just as tense near his desk, and Hermione settled herself on the bed.

"Ron? Harry?" she asked softly.

Ron swallowed and breathed through his nose, and Harry bit his lip before saying. "Hermione, I have something to tell you." She nodded her head, a worried look not able to stay clear from her face.

Harry took a deep breath and blurted, "I like men."

There was that stunned silence for a moment, and then Hermione breathed, "Oh."

Harry clenched his jaw, ready to offer an explaination, but Ron beat him to speaking by asking for one himself.

"Harry, mate…how…when…how do you know?"

Harry blushed, murmuring, "I, er…was kissed by a bloke. And I liked it. A lot."

Hermione blinked and Ron's mouth dropped open. "When was this?" the girl asked.

"Uh…Friday night-"

"_Friday_?" Ron exclaimed.

"And yesterday."

"_Yesterday_?" came a similar exclamation.

"Ron, it's alright, calm down." Hermione stood up and put a hand on his arm, and he looked down at her before half turning away from the both of them.

"Maybe you should explain from the beginning, Harry," Hermione said, leading Ron over to the bed to sit.

Harry nodded and was about to start when Ron blurted out, "This has something to do with Malfoy, doesn't it?"

Harry tensed, and Hermione looked startled and bewildered at Ron, who was looking at Harry, waiting for him to confirm the glimmer of thought that had regained control of his mind since the first time he had thought it; a few weeks ago when he had nearly gotten in a fight with the ferret.

There was a strange fusion of emotion in the green of Harry's eyes; sad, angry and resolute; and his words also relayed his mixed feelings on the matter: "Yes and no."

Ron felt his chest clench and his throat close up. _Oh god._

"Harry, Ron, what-"

"Hermione, I…" Harry interrupted, "I…" he floundered a second time. "Mikhail kissed me on Friday night after we went out for drinks," he finally got out.

"What!" Ron exclaimed again. "Mikhail? Our _Captain_? He's gay?" Harry nodded. "Holy Morgana…Harry, are you _sure_?"

Harry rolled his eyes and said in an almost curt tone, "No, Ron, I usually just make up random guys kissing me on the porch. I was there. Yes, I'm sure."

Ron reeled back a bit, apologising under his breath. "I don't mean to sound… I don't… Harry, I don't exactly have a _problem_ with blokes liking blokes, but I…"

"You didn't think I would?"

Ron sighed, nodding. "Yeah." There was a pause and then, "I just need a bit of time to get used to it."

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, what happened yesterday?"

"This is where Malfoy comes in, isn't it?" Ron asked. Harry nodded, and Ron clenched his fists. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Ron, let Harry explain."

"But it's…it's _Malfoy._ Ferret-boy! Bane of my bloody existence-"

"But _not__mine_," Harry cut in.

"I know, Harry, mate, I know. Just…did you kiss him?"

"Yes."

Ron swallowed, looking sick. "Do you like him?"

"Yes. Quite a lot, actually."

"But…but you said that you wouldn't be seeing much of him anymore…what happened? Did that little shit do something to you?" he finished off somewhat angrily.

Hermione placed a calming hand on Ron's arm, moving it down to interlock her fingers in his. "Ron…"

"Sorry."

Harry answered Ron's question, moving to sit down at his cluttered desk. "No, he didn't do anything, other than be a complete prat."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Last night, he and Raven got in a fight. About me, but I'm not sure what exactly. Raven left, and Draco and I started to talk about Mikhail…I didn't know how I felt about it…I didn't pull away when Mikhail kissed me, in fact, I kissed him back a bit, before realising just what was going on."

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Harry was amazed he was even getting this far. He continued, lest he lose his steam, and couldn't carry on explaining.

"I actually wound up getting out of Draco that he had thought about guys too…and eventually he told me that it was _me_ that he had been thinking about and I…well, I…I had kinda noticed him too, but didn't know what to make of it, and then…I asked him to kiss me."

"You…asked…him?" Ron choked out.

Harry nodded, and blush coming over his face. "And I really, really liked it, Ron."

"Did you…did you guys make out?" At Harry's nod, Ron let go of Hermione's hand to bury his face in his hands; trying to pull the mental images out of his head through his hair, Harry mused. Hermione immediately put a soothing hand on his back, and a small kiss to his hair. Then she turned to Harry.

"We support you, Harry. It just…might take a while to get used to."

"I understand. Thank you," he said quietly.

"So you guys made out," Ron's muffled voice said. "When did he become an arsehole?"

"Er…this morning."

"I _knew_ you didn't come home last night…" Ron lifted his head, his face flushed. "You stayed with him, didn't you?"

"Don't make it sound like an accusation, Ron," Hermione chastised.

"I'm not! I just want to know the facts."

"Yes, Ron, I stayed with him last night."

A grimace. "Did you…?"

"No."

"Oh, thank Merlin."

Harry finally lost his cool. "Well you might want to get used to the idea of me shagging blokes, Ron, because one day, I will."

Ron's face was utterly shocked at Harry's sudden change in demeanour. "Harry…what…?"

"Look, Ron, I know you don't like Draco. I really understand that, believe it or not. But I like him, okay? I really, really like him. _And _Raven, and they want to love me. It may not make sense to you, but it's more than I've ever had, besides my friends. And if you don't like it, fine. I'm not asking for your approval. I'm asking for your support. As my best mate. And Draco's really being a prat right now, and I…I…I've never felt like this before."

Hermione stood up and wrapped her arms around Harry's middle. "It's alright Harry." Harry just stood there, glaring miserably at the floor; his arms limp at his sides. Ron eventually stood up, shakily making his way over. He bit his lip, staring at his friend, who looked no different, but was it really as if anything had changed? Harry was still Harry, right? He still liked Quidditch and Chocolate frogs, he still played Seeker, he was still studying medicine, he still had unruly black hair and amazing green eyes, and a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled…so was the fact that he liked men…that he liked _Malfoy_, going to make him a different person?

Ron continued to stare at his friend.

No.

So with much trepidation, Ron reached out his hand and clasped Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up, and Hermione broke away, her arm still around Harry's waist.

"Ron?" Harry asked.

Ron didn't say anything yet; he just grabbed Harry in a bear hug. "What did he do?" he asked, as soon as Harry relaxed in his arms and returned the hug.

Harry sighed. "He broke it off…if there was anything _to_ break off, really." Harry pulled back and looked up at his friend. "He told me that he needs to get things okay between him and Raven first…that I might 'complicate things'."

"Well," Hermione said, "that seems to make a bit of sense."

"Yeah, I know…but he just…it's not just that. He really shouldn't have done anything with me, if he felt that way. And he told me to go out with someone else! That I should have a go with Mikhail. That I have 'so many more things to experience' and I shouldn't be limiting myself."

Ron frowned. "What? That makes no sense."

"I know."

"So Harry, what are you going to do?" Hermione asked.

Harry took a breath. "Go out with Mikhail."

"What?" Both of his friends shared a confused look before turning it on Harry.

"Draco says he still likes me, right? But he wants me to date someone else while he patches things up with Raven. So…I'm going to date Mikhail…because he's not a bad guy…and to make Draco jealous."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"Harry Potter, that's not right!" Hermione reprimanded, her hands on her hips. She was turning more and more like Molly Weasley, Harry and Ron thought fondly. Did that mean Ron was marrying someone just like his mum? _Oh Gods,_ he thought, _I hope not._

"What's not right about it?"

"You'll be _using_ Mikhail, that's what's wrong with it!"

"Hermione…I've thought of that, okay. I won't be…_using_ Mikhail… He likes me, and I could probably like him…he's good-looking enough. Besides, I can just tell him I don't want anything permanent…he'll be my first boyfriend after all," Harry reasoned.

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. "You boys. I'll never understand your reasoning."

"Hey!" Ron said. "I've got no part in this! But if you ask me, Harry, then give Draco hell. He doesn't deserve you by a long shot."

"I'll try, Ron," Harry said wryly. "So…you guys…we're all still okay?"

Hermione and Ron nodded. "Yeah, Harry, we're okay," Hermione said.

"I still don't like that you and Malfoy…like I said, Harry, he doesn't deserve you."

Harry nodded. There was really nothing he could say, except… "You guys…won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No, Harry…but you'll have to tell some people, because I think people will notice that you and Mikhail are together, if you do indeed go out," Hermione said.

Harry sighed. "Shit. You're right. Do you think the guys would mind?"

"As long as you don't hit on any of them, I think they'll be fine," Ron said.

Harry hit him on the arm. "Shuddap."

"So Raven and Draco both want you? Like…in a three-way relationship?" asked Hermione.

Harry nodded. "Yeah…" He bit his lip.

"I don't get that myself, mate," said Ron. "But if it makes you happy…"

"We'll see, Ron. We'll see." There was a pause. "Do you think I should break it to everyone at dinner?"

"Dinner!" Hermione exclaimed. "I've got to go finish helping Ginny and Luna! I love you two, see you downstairs!" She gave them each a quick kiss on the cheek, and then the brown-haired girl was gone.

Harry chuckled. "She's turning a bit like your mum, huh?"

It was Ron's turn to punch Harry.

"Shuddap."

* * *

_A/N: So ah...I'm expecting flames. About various relationships not going as 'expected' or 'planned'...lol I wouldn't blame any of you, really. But please...be gentle...things happen for a reason...or maybe not for any reason other than that's the bloody way life goes, and that's what I'm writing about, so deal with it:D_

_Can't be sure when the next chapter will be up...I've lost another beta, but am not looking to bring anymore on-board and explaining things, so I think Erin and I will do for now. Chapter seventeen is well underway, but school is starting up on Tuesday for me, and I'm not sure how much time I'll have between that, homework, and work at the cinema. As is usual, of course, but hopefully, I won't wait a whole quarter either! Again, so sorry about that, and I hope, when I get my new website up, you'll visit that as well!_

_Thank you, and I love you all! _

**Review Responses:**

**Many thanks for reviewing goes to: Mebear, Kat, Windy River, Dancingshades, Kai, fifespice, SirenLore, TsukiFa, Heather-Hezzer-and-Honaluki, myniephoenix, crazyfrog, Angelgal56**

**Hermione0789:** Thank you! I'm always glad to hear that Raven isn't entirely loathed…

**Twodollartrick: **Ah….Jords…how on _earth_ do I respond to a nice, long review like that? **;D**

First of all, I not officially love the word 'sexified'. And adore you even more for liking Harry wanking off in public…awww.

I'm ignoring your Ginny comment, because it has no relevance to why she's in my story. **:P**

Okay, I know…Mik was getting rather obvious…I was trying to pull it out of left field, but it didn't happen. :shrug: oh well. And no…I suppose I don't know any guys who'd offer to walk another guy home, but I figure Harry wouldn't think twice about the offer, really, just thinking that Mik must still want to talk…but just barely getting a hint of something because Mik obviously doesn't live on campus.

And… 'The Evil Scene'? lol, you're so funny. The evil scene, honestly. So yeah, the plans are still there…meh. Draco was denying his feelings, and most likely trying to put off Raven's knowledge of said 'non-feelings' by acting as though it was all still just a game. And yes. **:D** Deliciously evil Slytherins is what I like best. :evil grin:

I can't help but laugh at your melodramatic personality when it comes to sad or emotionally heart-wrenching scenes. It's endearing.

I'm glad you appreciated the 'picture' thing. Yes, I drew that picture for the express purposes of having a visual for that scene.

I really liked writing Harry hiding under the table. In fact, that's one of my favourite scenes that I've written. I like writing comedy like that….I can totally see it happening in my head, and while Draco's being all nonchalant about it, the librarian comes up and rips him a new arsehole. **:P **Ah…brilliant.

You asked about what made Harry faint. Basically, Harry was mentally fighting the emotions and physical reactions of not only posing nude, but posing nude with Draco, and in closer and closer positions. It might not make a lot of sense to some people, but to me, it was kind of like having a panic attack, and Harry, trying to fight it but remain still and detached and act like nothing was bothering him caused his mind to sort of "phase out" on him. So he didn't faint entirely…just sort of collapsed a little. It's not like he was really out, he just couldn't hold the charade anymore, and it caused him to become dizzy and disoriented.

And…they weren't totally aroused. But men do know what a completely flaccid (I was going to say the 'c' word, but I'll keep it clean) penis looks like, so the fact that they were both somewhat aroused was apparent, but they weren't like, full-on hard…just much bigger than they wanted each other to know.

Thanks for the praise on my ending scene…I was hoping it was okay…I wanted to have Jesse read it, so he could help with the realism…but maybe I should ask you about that sort of stuff? Especially when I get to the more…:ahem: juicy bits? You _are_ fully gay, after all…and have done quite a bit more with the male persuasion than Jesse…

And…I'll try to get back to you about the other story in more detail later. But I LOVE what I've read so far…though…there is a bit I'll have to discuss with you.

Kiss-kiss!

Rae

**thinkvixen**Hey! I'm glad you love "The Bet".** :D** It's always great to hear your work is appreciated (so much so as to cause withdrawl symptoms…wow). :) As to new chapters, they come out how they come out. Sometimes they're really long, other time they're much shorter. The start and end where they want to, and while I thought about breaking up my 64 page chapter, everything was rather cohesive, and I didn't want to break it apart. Writing is not my life, unfortunately, and as much as I'd like to update every week or two, I just don't write that fast, and my betas don't proof that fast, either. I had, when I started this story, stayed ahead a few chapters, but eventually, with school and other things, that failed, and now, it's chapter to chapter. So, I'm sorry you have to wait, but I'd rather take my time and make a really wonderful story than rush and try to get chapters out all the time. Thank you for you concern, though!

**CaptainCheese:** Don't feel dirty for enjoying this fic! This fic is about _life_, about passion and growing up, and finding out who you really are, defining yourself, and learning that you can really enjoy your body and your life, if you just allow yourself to. It's about exploring the basest of human needs. So don't feel dirty! If you feel like that now…I can't imagine how you'll feel when I get to the actual sexual depictions… I'm glad you feel that I've done well with the characters. That's what I've tried to keep going, despite the radical change in their lives, be it from war or love. And…as answers to your questions…you'll just have to keep reading to find out! **:D**

**DanishGirl:** Hey! I'm Danish too! (Well, a majority of my family is from Denmark...lol) I feel your sentiments about keeping it mainly Harry/Draco. But, as it is quite obvious, Raven is still around. And she will be. For a while at least.

**animebay-b: **Er…I can't say I'm sorry about the het…it's a fact of life hun, and you wouldn't be around if it weren't. So. Since this story is about _life_, I certainly can't make everyone gay, can I? I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway, and I hope you keep reading. There may be more het yet, but slash will soon prevail! (I hope.) **:P**

**Qualle:**Why, thank you very much. **:D :D :D **I know…the story is probably one I'd be unsure of reading too, just by reading the summary and first few chapters, and it's really sad that a lot of people can't get past those first few chapters, because this story is SO much more than it seems on the surface. I'm glad you reviewed, and I look forward to hearing from you again.

**Opal Portia: **"I'm really glad they got together and I can't wait to see how their new relationship develops." –you. (Heh…_if_ it develops…) Oh wait, did I say that out loud? Oops. **:P** There's still a few bumps ahead…a few things to move past, and few people to maim…lol But yeah…it should be interesting. Always a pleasure to hear from you. And yep. I enjoyed giving Harry balls.

**MachiavellianOrange: **Ah, MO. I love you and adore you deeply, and I'm sad to see you go. I'll miss your brutal and witty commentary. **:D **And you'll be missing all the Mikhail too…

**serenia-sd: **I don't have much to comment on in response, other than thank you very much, and I'm pleased you liked it! (Sorry it took so long for something to happen!)

**scarblade**Threesomes? Possibly… **:D**

**Bezzie: **Pairings…no, you're supposed to know…that's why it's in the summary. But while there will be various relationships with both genders involved, it will be primarily slash, and primarily Harry/Draco. Thanks for reviewing!

**enlightenment: **Thank you so much for your kind words! And thanks for loving me and my story and my Harry and my Draco. **:P** It makes my day to read reviews like that. I'm happy that I could make someone smile. And as for Raven…well, I can't say anything without giving plot away, but we'll see what I can't do.

**Camila: **Thanks for the compliment. I feel the same way about Harry, and I'm glad you do too. Most of my readers feel that way, and rest assured; those fears will not be looked over. They will be addressed at some point or another over the course of the story. Things might seem…'unhealthy' relationship-wise for a while, but it will all work out to the best of the situation's ability. Such is life, and it's hardly ever perfect and hunky dory, and that's what I'm trying to portray…that life isn't easy, or clear, and even when you think you have it all figured out, something else happens to change your mind. So, I'm happy you reviewed, and I look forward to hearing from you again! Please tell me how you felt about the last scene!

**Totchii: **Wow…I just…no one's ever said that about my fic before. Thank you! **:D :D :D**

**teneraestnox:** I'm glad you like threesomes, and I'm glad you like Raven. I like them both too. **:D **And don't worry about the 'long' review! Make them longer! I LOVE reviews!

**MyOriginalIntent:** Damn…talk about review poetry. I love it! **:D** Thank you for the review and the compliments. I'm sorry it took so long to update…I'm trying to do better!

**she who is to lazy to sign in aka: shalaren(at)yahoo(dot)com: **Interesting idea…and I actually kind of like it. However, the story has been 'The Bet' for so long…I can't change it. I may, however, rename a chapter…or name a future chapter in honour of the idea. Thank you!

**Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for reading. I would like it so much if you would please review. :D  
**


	17. Interlude Twos and Threes in Four Parts

**_Chapter Notes:_**_ This is just a short interlude between chapters sixteen and seventeen. It's about ten pages long, and I've been sitting on it for a little over a week, but I've been too busy to do anything with it, which brings me to my next order of business..._

_**My next update**: This, my dear readers, is probably going to disappoint you greatly, and for that, I am sorry. This quarter at school has been almost literally kicking my arse, and I need every spare moment I've got. I'm working with actual clients now, through the school, which is taking up a lot of my time. Luckily, chapter seventeen is nearly done, but I **CANNOT **guarantee that it will be finished any time soon. When I get a free moment that doesn't need to be taken up by something else, or when the writing itch really gets to me, I will try to finish it. But right now, all I can really have you (and myself) hope for, is sometime near Christmas, when I'm not in school, and I have three weeks to possibly work on my own things. _

_I really am sorry, but school comes first right now. That, and paying off my bills._

_On my next order of business, **my website is now open! **Go check it out through my user's page...there are still a few things that will be progressing throughout the upcoming months (again, barring time available), but it's pretty much ready for all to see! Please sign up for my mailing list, and the review board, if you'd like to leave a review there instead of coming back here. My Yahoo group has nothing on it, but there is a link that will take you to my new site for your convenience._

_This chapter was beta'd by the allustrious **IcyAurora**. Please give her kudos. _**  
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Interlude – Twos and Threes in Four Parts

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_**Number One – A Bedroom, about 10pm.**_

"Owen!"

"What? Jeeze, I just got home and you're already yelling at me?"

"We've got something to tell you!"

Owen Cauldwell closed the bedroom door behind him, dropping his bag to the floor and shuffling further into the room. Kevin Whitby and Dennis Creevey were sitting on Owen's bed, and Seamus, Owen's roommate, was nowhere to be found. "What are you guys doing in my room? I just got off of a long and boring shift at Cel's, and I really just want to relax."

"Harry's gay," Kevin blurted out. Dennis promptly slapped him upside the head. "Ow!"

"Well, you didn't have to say it like that!"

"How were _you_ going to break the news?"

Dennis sighed. "That's not the point."

"He's what?" Owen said, staring blankly at his two friends.

"He's _bi_," Dennis cut in, giving his roommate a glare. "Harry told us tonight at dinner, but you were at work."

Owen raised his eyebrows, his eyes shifting around the room in confusion. "So Harry likes both girls _and_ boys?"

"Yep."

"O-kay…" the waiter said in a sort of unsure manner. "When did he…? How…why did he tell everyone? Is this a new thing?"

"I'm not sure. He wanted us to be aware and okay with everything. So that we weren't shocked," Dennis said.

"And he's going to ask someone out!" Kevin jumped in, a big grin on his face.

Something suddenly struck in Owen's mind. "I saw him, and another guy, at the Café on Friday night."

"Really?" Kevin and Dennis said in unison. "Who?" Dennis asked, thinking of Malfoy.

"An older-ish guy. Like…late twenties, maybe. I've seen him around campus. He's…he's…" Owen mused for a moment, "the Quidditch Captain!"

Dennis's jaw dropped. "Do you think they were on a date?" Kevin asked.

Owen shrugged, starting to strip off his clothes. "I don't know. They only had a couple of drinks. Then they left."

"Probably for some mutual wankage," said Kevin, winking and giving Dennis a nudge.

Dennis slapped him again, and Kevin protested the bodily harm. "Oh, shove off, Kevin. You're being no help at all." Turning to Owen he asked, "Do you think Mikhail might be who Harry's going to ask out?"

Again, Owen shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. It's Harry's life."

"You're not shocked?" Kevin said, impressed. "I was."

Owen sighed as he threw his dirty clothes in the hamper and collected his toiletries. "Hardly anything would shock me when pertaining to Harry Potter. He's had everything from his latest crush to his most obscure habits plastered all over the news. Most of which we all know is untrue. I'm surprised the issue of his sexuality hasn't been all over the Daily Prophet before, what with all his lack of girlfriends. So he likes men too, so what? It's a new age in the Wizarding World, and nobody really cares about anything other than that we're all alive and we can all live in peace. At least until the next bastard who wants to be a Dark Lord comes around." Turning around he said, "Now, I'm going to go shower. Will you guys _please_ go back to your own room?"

Dennis nodded, grabbing Kevin's arm and dragging him off the bed and out of the room. Once inside their own room down the hall, Kevin turned to Dennis and whispered conspiratorially, "How much you want to bet that Harry's going to ask Mikhail out?"

Dennis grinned. "How much is this bet worth to you?"

* * *

**_Number Two – Lounge, about 9:40pm_ **

Seamus waved goodbye to Neville and Luna, who were walking to Number Four where Luna lived, then hooked a more secure hold around his own girlfriend's waist as he walked her up to her own dorm.

"Care to come inside?" Ginny asked.

"Sure, love."

They stepped inside to the significantly warmer temperature, and immediately started shedding their winter clothing, making their way to the lounge to sit in front of the fire.

"Hello, Susan," Ginny greeted, noting her dorm mate as she left the lounge and made for the stairs.

"Hello, Ginny. Seamus."

"M'lady," Seamus said in playful exaggeration, bowing to let the other redhead pass.

Susan giggled and replied, "You better pay a bit more attention to your own Lady, Sir, or you'll have none to speak of."

"Aye, wouldn't want me Lady's wrath upon me, now would I?" he asked playfully, his Irish lilt coming in strong.

"That you wouldn't. Goodnight you two."

"'Night, Susan," Ginny said, smiling. Seamus gave the departing redhead his own goodbye.

Settling in on the sofa, Seamus took Ginny into his lap, curling around her, and she rested her head under his chin.

"Ginny?" Seamus murmured after a few silent moments.

"Hm?"

"Are you alright? You've been really quiet tonight."

"Oh, I suppose I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Just stuff."

"You're thinking about what Harry said, aren't you? About him liking blokes?"

"Yeah, a little."

Seamus shifted so he could look Ginny in the eye. "Are you upset about it? Do you hate gay people?"

"What? No. No, nothing like that." Here, she paused, sorting through her thoughts. "My parents have generally always been open minded; concerning most things and people anyway, so homosexuality isn't really a 'bad' thing to me. Though, I've never really met any wizards that were gay, so I'm not sure I have any type of opinion on it. But Harry…I just…" she paused again, unsure of her next words. "It's not that it's different _because_ it's Harry, but it is, you know? I've known Harry for so long…we all have, and this just seems so sudden. He never looked at guys that way before did he? I mean, even back at Hogwarts he had crushes on girls…like Cho." Sighing, she finished, "You know I had a horrible crush on him, even when I was dating other boys. I paid all kinds of attention to him…and I just really don't see it. Harry being gay. Or bi. Or whatever he called it."

Seamus bit his lip and tried not to think of Ginny liking Harry. He had kinda hoped she was over it after all these years. And after her long-lasting relationship with Dean; and now, with him. Taking a deep breath he asked quietly, "Do you still like Harry? Is that why this is so weird for you?"

Ginny blinked. "What? No…no, I don't still like Harry. Not really in that way anymore. I accepted that he would just see me as a part of the Weasley family, a part of _his_ family, years ago. No, that's not why this seems weird. It's just…so sudden."

"Then maybe it's that way for him too. Maybe it's a new thing. Maybe he's just never been attracted to guys before now, or he hasn't been attracted to any girls for such a long time, that he's... Maybe he's looking for a different way to…I don't know, vent sexual frustration?"

"Seamus!" Ginny blushed.

"What? It's true. And it makes sense. Gin, Harry hasn't had a girlfriend since…well, Cho. And as far as I know, that had one sloppy kiss, and ended rather horribly. Unless he's gone to a brothel or picked up a call girl at some point along the way, I don't think Harry's gotten any."

"Oh, God, _Seamus…_" Ginny's blush deepened, and she buried her head in his neck. "I _don__'t_ want to think about Harry like that."

"Well? What other conclusion is there? Somehow, Harry's taken an eye to blokes, and not only that, but he seems happier too. Happier than I've seen him in years. So, I'm gonna be happy for him."

"That is true. I'm glad he seems happier too. I just hope it's for the right reasons."

"What do you mean?"

"He started acting different, happier maybe, but definitely different ever since he started hanging around Malfoy. To me, Malfoy is another word for 'overbearing, conceited prat, hell-bent on giving Harry trouble'."

Chuckling, Seamus replied, "If you ask me, love, the changes have been good. Like you said, he seems happier. He hasn't been moping around at all like he used to. If I had any idea that Malfoy showing up on our doorstep that morning would eventually lead to Harry getting _past_ the bloody war, I would have invited him over myself."

The redhead sighed softly against Seamus' neck. "I suppose you're right. I just don't want Malfoy messing this up for him. Harry deserves to be happy."

"I know, Ginny-love. We all think so." The sandy-haired man held her tight.

"But if this guy, whoever he is, breaks Harry's heart, I'll cast the worst bat-bogey hex this world has ever seen," she said fiercely.

Seamus did not envy the person at the mercy of his girlfriend's wand. He held her even closer, trying to reassure her fears as best he could.

* * *

_**Number Four – Porch, about 9:45pm**_

As they stepped up onto the porch, Neville pulled Luna to him and caught her in a sweet kiss. She flowed into the embrace, wrapping her thin arms around Neville's neck and shoulders.

When they parted he looked into her blue eyes, recalling a time when they were perhaps a bit more vacant and dreamy looking, and most people thought her mind was the same; vacant and dreamy. And perhaps a little loony, based on her nickname. But she wasn't like that anymore. Sure, she still had her quirks, and her infallible belief in things that even Neville, as a wizard, sometimes knew where fantastical. But he loved her. And he had yet to tell her so.

So, with baited breath, he gave her another quick kiss and said, "Luna, I love you."

She only smiled dreamily up at him, a merry sparkle in her eyes. But she didn't respond.

Neville swallowed and said a little nervously, "A-aren't you going to say something?"

"Hm? Oh…sorry, I was just thinking about what a handsome couple Harry and Draco Malfoy would make. Like you and me. Don't you think so?"

Neville's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he stuttered, "W-what?"

"And I love you too."

Neville shook his dark head. "No, I mean…great! But…_what_ was that about Harry and Malfoy?"

"They'd be handsome together. Nice contrast." Her face was plain and open, and Neville could tell that this was another one of her blatantly honest and observant moments.

Neville had to pull away from her and lean against the railing. "Luna, you're not making any sense." This was _not_ how he envisioned his proclamation of love to go. Not that he expected cherubs and violin music or anything, but certainly not _this._ "I told you I love you, and you tell me how _handsome_ you think Harry and…and _Malfoy_ would be together?"

She stepped forward and ran a cool hand down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Neville. I didn't mean to throw that at you. It was just on my mind all evening." The sparkle in her big blue eyes dimmed a bit.

Neville grimaced, thinking about Raven's intentions toward Harry and Malfoy, and how Harry's newest revelation might come into play in relation to the blond git. Harry couldn't really be thinking of asking _Draco Malfoy_ out, would he? _We even asked him directly_, he mused. _And he had said no, that wasn't why he was spending time with Malfoy._ Something wasn't adding up, but Neville wasn't sure he wanted to think about it. He had just wanted to kiss his girlfriend goodnight, tell her he loved her, hopefully have her say it back, and then get inside somewhere, because his brain suddenly registered, _it__'s bloody _freezing _out here._

"It's cold," he finally said, wrapping an arm around Luna and pulling her close. "And don't worry about what you said, I just wasn't expecting that response to me telling you I loved you."

She snuggled under his chin, her long eyelashes tickling his neck. "I do love you, Neville," she said softly.

"I love you too. Let's get you inside," he replied, ushering her to the door, giving her one last lingering kiss and taking his leave; his own thoughts swirling in his head as he hurried home.

_Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy…? Lovers?_

He bit his lip and swore to keep that line of thought to himself. No good could come of re-starting old feuds or animosities. Ron would probably have a fit. Sometimes, back at Hogwarts, Neville had thought that perhaps Ron hated Malfoy more than Harry or Hermione did, though he still couldn't see Hermione truly hating anyone.

But come to think of it, there had really been no reaction from Ron or Hermione when Luna had suggested Malfoy's involvement in this change in Harry. Perhaps there was something going on…?

No matter. Once Harry asked this guy, whomever he was, out, then everyone would know, and there would be no questions about where Harry's affections lay. It was his life, after all, and Neville had made a promise to Hermione, Ron, himself, and unbeknownst to Harry, to stay out of his friend's affairs. Neville had no right meddling, not anymore, not ever.

He shivered once more before stepping back inside Number One.

* * *

**_Number One – Kitchen, about 10pm_ **

Hermione smiled and offered leftovers to Owen, who was just walking in the door, following just a minute or two behind Neville.

"No need, 'Mione. I got fed at the café. But thank you."

"At least Celestine's keeping you healthy," she replied, sealing the food and putting it in the icebox.

"Just barely," he said, hooking his coat and scarf on the coat rack by the door. "It's mighty cold out there tonight."

"Don't I know it," said Ron, who was washing dishes in the sink.

"Well, I'm goin' ta head upstairs," Owen yawned. "I'm exhausted, and I still need a shower."

"Remember that there's still some food if you get hungry later on!" Hermione called to him, smiling. The boys were like family to her, some closer than others, but she always felt the need to make sure they were eating properly and taking care of themselves. It ironically went against her nature to have them learn everything on their own. Perhaps what she was really wanting was a family of her own…? Lots of little bushy red-haired tots running about…more additions to the already growing Weasley family. She thought of Fleur and Bill, so opposite they had seemed at first…just like her and Ron really, and now they had two twin gorgeous strawberry-blondes, as charming as both their parents, and as mischief making as their uncles.

She broke out of her musing to look at her beloved, small tendrils of red falling into his eyes. His brow was furrowed in either concentration or thought, perhaps a little bit of both, as he manually did the chores he had never gotten a hang of the charms for. That was one thing Hermione had learned quickly; the man rather tended to break more dishes than he washed, even when something as simple as a _scourgify_ might have done the trick. Hermione rolled her eyes. Trust men to mess up the simplest of tasks. Though it had taught him that sometimes magic just wasn't meant for everyone in every department of their lives.

Coming up behind him, she twined her arms around his lean waist and leaned into him, breathing in his scent through his jumper. She felt rather than saw him cease his cleaning, and he leaned back into her embrace.

"How are you, love?" she asked, moving her head to look up at him.

"Mm…I'm not sure."

"Is everything okay?" She moved from behind him to his side, looking at his profile with worry.

Ron shrugged. "It's just this thing with Harry, I guess. I'm still trying to sort it all out."

"What's bothering you about it?" Hermione asked gently, placing her hand on his back.

He sighed heavily and braced his arms on the sink basin, his head falling forward. Slowly, he said, "It was shocking enough, the way he told me he likes men…but to throw in all that stuff with _Malfoy..._" He grimaced. "It makes me feel sick just thinking about it."

Hermione frowned, but asked not unkindly, "Do you really hate Malfoy so much, that you'd be unwilling to support Harry, when right now, he needs our support more than ever?"

Ron shook his head. "No…and that's not really it, either. I support Harry, Herm, you know I do. But I…if he were going to like blokes why did he have to like Malfoy? Why him? I just don't see it. He's not even attractive!"

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't about if Ron found him attractive or boyfriend-worthy or not. It was about _Harry,_ and his feelings and desires. "Do you find Seamus attractive?" she asked.

"What? No! Of course not! He's one of my mates." Ron looked slightly scandalised.

"But does that stop you from accepting Ginny's attraction to him?"

"I-" Ron stopped, realising what Hermione was trying to tell him. "No. No, it doesn't."

"Well then. There you go." When Ron still seemed to want to protest she said, "He's different, Ron. Changed. Malfoy isn't the same person he was at Hogwarts. None of us are. Why is it so hard for you to see that?"

Getting slightly defensive, as she knew he would, he shot back at her, "And how can you be so accepting? He was a _Death Eater,_ Hermione. He killed hundreds of people! You don't walk away from doing that like it never happened!"

"And neither you or I know just what happened with Malfoy seeking sanctuary. If he wants to broadcast to the world what he went through, and why he made the decisions he did, then that's his business, not ours! I'm not saying I like Malfoy, Ron, but at least I've tried talking to him. And I'd like to think that I'm a good enough judge of character to see that he's different. Still an ass, but different."

"I've talked to him too, Hermione. And I _know_ that he cares about Harry…Merlin, he practically told me he likes him! He said he knew that Harry needed someone who was _more_ of a friend…and I _know_ that, I understand that. But I…what if he hurts Harry?" Ron turned fully to Hermione, his eyes becoming glassy. "The last thing I want is Harry going back to the way he was. If him being friends with Malfoy and Raven has brought him out of his…self-depreciation or whatever, then why change that? Why not stay friends?" Ron looked away, picking up a towel to dry his hands.

Hermione stayed silent for a moment, taking in her fiancé's words. Ron certainly had a valid point, and she couldn't refute the precariousness of the situation at hand. But she wasn't blind, either. She saw the look on Harry's face earlier, when he talked about Malfoy. He was ridiculously in love. Whether he realised it or not was an entirely different matter. Perhaps it was just a very strong lust, and would lose its charm over time, but Hermione knew better. Harry was falling, hard and fast. And he probably wouldn't notice it until he hit bottom. But should she tell him? Would it do any good? Hermione knew the Harry needed to figure out love and lust and relationships on his own; that no one could help him; because that's what he needed, that's what he wanted, and that's what everybody else had. As much as Harry could be hurt, she also knew that he could discover and explore the most wonderful feelings and things, if he were just allowed the opportunity. So she told Ron as much.

Ron still looked about ready to cry. "He's like my own twin brother, Hermione…how can I even think of letting something like that have the _possibility_ of hurting him? Fuck…" his breath was obviously catching in his throat and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to work his tears down.

"Shh…oh, love…" Hermione reached for Ron and wrapped her arms around his mid-section as he roughly squeezed her to him, sniffling into her shoulder. He smelled of dish soap and his own masculine scent, and Hermione herself fought not to cry. "It's okay," she murmured, as much for Ron as for herself. "Everything will be fine. We just have to let things happen, okay? Harry has to learn these things on his own; we can't tell him how to deal with love, or heartache. They come hand in hand, whether we like it or not. He's strong; he'll be fine. You'll see."

And Hermione knew that she was reassuring Ron's feelings on the matter just as much as she was reaffirming hers.

* * *

**A/N:** _Yeah...so a little insight into the lives and minds of some of our other beloved characters. I'm going to try and incorporate them into the story more, but we'll see._

_Next chapter, look forward to Harry's first experience in asking out a guy, kisses, jealousy, and long-overdue conversations.(And possible first dates..._ ; ) _)  
_

_REMEMBER TO CHECK OUT MY NEW WEBSITE! And please let me know of any comments you might have (in my review board, please, under **DQ**) _

**Review Responses:**

**Coming next chapter!**_**  
** _


	18. Coming Out of the Broom Cupboard

**_ Chapter Notes: _**_Hey everyone! How are all of you? I'm good, especially because I got this chapter up much eariler than I was expecting! So, in a great treat to you, here's Chapter Seventeen! I hope you enjoy it. Finals for me are this week and next, so after that, I should be able to get up Chapter Eighteen. It's...well, it's partly written, and I know what's going to happen, I just got to get it down, you know? I hate not being a few steps ahead, but real life (ugh) hasn't been too kind to my writing time/motivations lately._

_ As always, a lovely, lovely thank you goes out to my beta **IcyAurora**. Couldn't do it without her!_

_My new website is linked on my user page, please go visit it when you have a chance. I'd really like your opinion! That will be where I'll host the NC-17 versions of my stories, so no more Yahoo Group! Anyone can go there, but if you want e-mails as to when I update my site, you'll have to sign up for my mailing list. I'm the only one who can access it, so there won't be spam or a thousand messages from other people._

_By the way...how'd you guys like GoF the movie? Other than some indescrepancies and missing things that I basically knew would be there, I thoroughly enjoyed it as a movie! (I don't compare them to the books...makes it less enjoyable that way.) Besides, did you SEE Dan? -droooooool- Goddamn him for only being sixteen! (And thusly, for me, illegal. Blast!)

* * *

_**Chapter XVII – Coming Out of the Broom Cupboard

* * *

**

Draco strode through the library, his step purposeful and his head held high. He approached a table at the very back; it was not his usual, but one occupied by the only person he was intent upon seeing that day: Raven.

He stopped just to the side of her and held out a small black book, unmarked but for the brass trimmings on the corners. "Here you go." His tone was light but clipped, and he stood there with just the barest hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.

Raven's dark curtain of hair had covered her face while she worked on some essay, but when she looked up, Draco had never thought the colour green could turn someone to ice. Because that's how he felt, standing there in the Library: frozen, his arm held out and the hint of a smile cold on his lips. _Oh good Lord…I__'m done for._

She eyed the book with such disinterest it was as if she were looking through the book and his hand to the floor; old wood that had age-old dust in the crevices. Yes, nothing but a scuff on the floor. She then ignored him and went back to what she was doing.

Draco felt himself unfreeze, but was still stiff and sore from the glare Raven had administered on his body and heart. Slowly, he moved around her and sat down on her other side. Placing the book on the table and pushing it towards her, he took a deep breath and said, "Raven, I know you're mad at me. And I want to…to apologise. I had no right to yell at you." There. That was good, wasn't it?

But Raven only glared at him again, with the same intensity as before. "You can take your journal and your body, and leave my general vicinity. Now."

Merlin, her voice cut like ice too.

"Raven, please. You know I'm not one to beg. Please listen to what I have to say."

"No. And if you won't leave, then I will." She moved to put her things away.

But Draco grabbed her arm. "No! Please, Raven. Love. Please." He stared as bravely as he could into her uncut emerald eyes. "I…I heard Harry told you what happened. I wrote it down for you. I knew you'd want to know. So take the journal. It's for you."

"Well, like you said, Draco, Harry's already told me. So I really don't need the journal." She wrenched her arm out of his grip, and made to stand up again.

But Draco got up quickly and moved in front of her. "Yes, but he didn't tell you everything, now did he? You always wanted details…and I wrote them down for you." He hated that he sounded so needy and begging, but he couldn't help it. He _had_ to get Raven to listen to him. He had to make things right.

Raven stopped what she was doing before fixing him with a hard look. "Did it ever occur to you, Draco, that I maybe don't want any details this time? If I did, I surely would have asked you for the journal, now wouldn't I have?"

Draco gulped. This was not going right. Not at all. "Okay…" he started, then tried, "Will you at least listen to me? Let me apologise. I owe you an explanation."

Raven sat back down. "You have one minute."

Draco dropped to one knee, and took a hold of one of Raven's hands. It was limp in his. He looked down at the pale skin of her hand, watching his thumb rub little circles upon it. "Raven, I'm sorry I doubted you. I honestly didn't realise that Harry was…ready. I shouldn't have yelled at you, and I'm really sorry about that. I love you. I don't even care about the bet anymore. I love you, and I like—love—_care_ about Harry…" he trailed off in a quiet voice, before finally looking up into her eyes. They were still rather cold looking. "But I don't want to hurt either of you. So I'm sorry if I did."

Raven sat there for a minute, before extracting her hand and standing back up. She took the journal from the table and tucked it away in her bag. "I'll think about accepting your apology." And with nothing more, she moved past him and out of the building.

Draco looked after her and sighed, still kneeling on the floor. He put his hands on the now empty chair in front of him and rested his forehead on top of them. Did that go well? He wasn't sure. But she _had_ listened to him, and she _had_ taken the journal with her…and she said she'd think about it…so maybe things were looking up?

Draco prayed to Merlin that that was so.

She was just _so_ confusing. She, though being more open to showing emotion than Draco, was still hard to read. Well, if you counted a glare that could freeze one's soul hard to read. But she was nowhere near as expressive as Harry. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, just like his heart. Raven was much more adept to hiding things. She had been a Death Eater spy in the war, after all.

"Malfoy? What are you doing on the floor?"

Draco looked up to see Granger standing only a few feet away, a puzzled look on her face.

"Oh wonderful, it's my resident Gryffindor psychiatrist, back for another session. What do you want, Granger?" Draco sniped, putting his head back on his hands.

Hermione sniffed. "I just wanted to know if everything's alright. Harry's told us…"

Draco's head shot up. "What? What did he tell you?" Draco then realised that he was below eye-level of Hermione, and was indeed trying to demand information from her from an undignified position on the floor. He sprang immediately to his feet.

Hermione jumped back slightly at his sudden change of height and said in soft tones, "About what's been going on between you two the past few days. And Raven. He told us that you told him to go out with Mikhail."

Draco seemed to relax marginally and leaned against the edge of the table. "Yes, I told him to do that." He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the floor.

"Hmm. Well, I hope things work out between you and Raven."

"Why?" Draco looked up into Hermione's warm brown eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Because Harry would feel more miserable than he already does about breaking up your relationship. Goodbye, Draco." Then she spun on her heel and left.

Draco watched after her for a moment before sighing and bowing his head. Harry didn't need to feel guilty about him and Raven. It wasn't _his_ fault. He needed to go…be happy with someone else. For a while.

Draco knew the absolute absurdity and contradiction of his recent actions and words towards Harry. He had meant what he said; his offer to be whatever Harry needed still stood, but right now, Draco felt that he couldn't give Harry the attention that he needed. Barely enough for a friend, and not nearly enough as a lover. Especially with all the big changes in Harry's life in the past few days; like realising that he was attracted to men. Draco wanted to be there for Harry, but was afraid that his feelings for the man would only muck things up. He couldn't be a friend and help Harry through anything he needed to go through if Draco was still trying to get into his pants…. That was one of the problems to boot as it were. His relationship with Raven was still working itself out, and Draco didn't want to put that pressure on Harry when he was obviously sorting his own feelings out for the both of them. Draco only hoped that Mikhail could fill that role, if only for a short while. Having another relationship, or any at all for that matter, would be good for Harry, Draco was sure of it.

* * *

As Harry flew warm-up laps around the pitch, he thought back to the night before, and his confession of liking men just before dessert. Seamus had called it, 'coming out of the closet'; a phrase Harry had heard before, but never really gave much attention to. That was, until he himself was 'coming out of the closet'. 

The initial reaction was stunned silence, while Ron put a protective hand on his shoulder from where he was standing behind Harry, and Hermione placed a comforting and supporting hand in Harry's beneath the table.

Then Luna, in her usual carefree manner said, "I was wondering why you were spending so much time with Draco Malfoy recently."

There was a collective gasp around the table, and then the other boys immediately started denying it for Harry, while Luna just sat oblivious next to Neville, scooping vanilla ice cream onto the plate that held her slice of chocolate cake, and Ron and Hermione bit their lips and Harry blushed like mad.

Then Seamus finally quieted everyone down and asked the silent Harry, "So, mate…that's not…true, is it? I mean…Harrell and Malfoy, I thought they were together…"

Harry had bit his lip and felt Ron squeeze his shoulder. "No, that's not why I've been spending a lot of time around Draco," he half-lied. "This is a new thing…and I…well…I was thinking of asking someone out, and I wanted you guys to know, so er…questions don't come up later."

Seamus grinned. "Who's the lucky bloke, Harry?"

Harry finally looked up from his untouched cake, taking in the gazes of the people around him. Luna wasn't looking at him at all, just eating her cake and ice cream merrily; Neville, looked as if he was unsure how to react still; Kevin Whitby and Dennis looked just plain shocked; Owen was at work, and thus, not there to react; Seamus was, of course, grinning wickedly; and Ginny had looked shocked at the initial revelation, but now only looked slightly worried, obviously trying to be supportive, but not knowing how.

Blushing, Harry glanced away before saying quickly and quietly, "You'll see."

"But what if he says no?"

Harry shrugged. "Then he does. But I'm sure you'll hear who it is, regardless."

"Aye, and I'll bugger you like mad when I do."

At the halted silence that followed, Seamus quickly realised just what it was he said. "Oh. I mean…not _that._ Merlin, people, get your minds out of the gutter! I just meant that I'd _bother_ him, that's all."

Neville had chuckled slightly, draping an arm across the back of Luna's chair. "Uh huh. Sure."

"Bugger off, Neville."

"Care to join me?" Neville joked back.

That released the tension in the room, and everyone laughed, diving into their dessert.

Now that Harry thought back on it, it had gone rather well. He had asked that everyone keep it to themselves for the time being, though they could tell Owen when he got home. He knew that it would come out…but he didn't want it to before he had a chance to talk to Mikhail, which he hadn't yet…

When he had gotten to practice, Mikhail was already there, talking with Meghan. As soon as he'd been in his gear, ready to go, the rest of the team was ready too, and immediately, Mikhail made them take to the skies, straight into their warm-up routine. It was like any normal practice…except that Mikhail seemed to be avoiding him just in the slightest, and Draco was just as distant as he had been a month ago, if not glaringly so. Harry and Ron shared slightly troubled looks, but continued on with everything like normal. It was all Harry could do, really.

As Harry and Draco searched for the Snitch in the last scrimmage, Harry sidled over to Draco and asked in a nonchalant way, "So…how are things with Raven?"

Draco cast a steely grey glance in his direction before replying, "I'm not sure yet."

"She still not talking to you?"

"It hasn't been very long. I'm still working on it."

"Oh."

"Look, Harry. I'm sure you'll know all about what happens from Raven or something. Could we please not talk about it?"

Harry looked away, feeling chastised. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine. I just…things will be fine. It'll just take a while. I…I didn't think she'd be this mad over what I said."

"She hasn't said anything to me about why she's so angry. Sorry I can't help."

Draco sighed. "It's not your problem, Harry. You may be the subject, but not the cause. At least, not directly. Don't worry about it. I'll figure something out."

Harry could only nod, as just after, Draco zoomed off in sight of the Snitch.

Harry followed after a beat, feeling rather morose and not caring entirely much if he caught the Snitch. Not to say he didn't try, but as Draco's pale fingers clutched the little golden ball, Harry immediately slowed and circled down to the pitch, happy that Draco had caught the Snitch again, as it would surely lead to his secured position for the next match, but his thoughts really strayed elsewhere, including his relationship with the two ex-Slytherin's that he had grown accustomed to having around him. And the dark-haired man who was touching down from across the field.

"Great work, Malfoy," Mikhail said to the blond landing beside him. "And good practice, everyone. I'll see you all tomorrow." Everyone turned to head to the locker rooms, but Harry stalled, trying to catch Mikhail's eye as he finished talking with Meghan. As Meghan walked away, Mikhail looked up. "Can I help you with something, Harry?"

Harry nodded, swallowing and stepping forward, stopping only a foot away from Mikhail. He wasn't sure how to start this particular conversation, so he started with: "Do you think Draco will be good enough for the next game?"

Mikhail raised an eyebrow but replied, "Yes. I think so. Is that all?" To Harry, it sounded like Mikhail already knew that Harry wanted to talk about something other than Draco Malfoy.

"Er…" Harry stalled again.

Mikhail bit his lip and said, "Harry, I didn't tell anyone about Friday night. I'm really sorry I even tried-"

"Will you go out with me?"

"-such a…. What?" Mikhail's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise.

Harry swallowed and took a deep breath, looking up a few inches to Mikhail's deep brown eyes. "I said would you go out with me?"

"You-you're serious?"

"Yes."

"But I thought…"

"That I wasn't gay?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm not sure if I'm _entirely_ gay…I still like girls, just none have caught my eye." _Except for one…_ Harry's mind supplied, but he swiftly told it to shut up.

"So you're bi, then?"

"Yeah, I think so." Harry's brow wrinkled.

Mikhail nodded, shifting his gaze for a second before landing back on Harry's. "You really want to go out with me?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I…I've never really been with a guy though…"

Mikhail smiled. "I'm pretty sure that was obvious on Friday." Harry ducked his head in embarrassment, but Mikhail lifted up his chin with a gloved finger. "So, if I'm to go out with you, does that mean I get to kiss you again? And you won't run away this time?"

Harry blushed and chuckled. "No. I mean yes. I mean, no, I won't run away, and yes, you can kiss me again."

A brilliant smile spread on Mikhail's face, and his eyes darted around for a second to make sure that everyone was either gone or in the locker rooms, before tilting his face down to meet Harry's.

What he didn't see with his cursory glance was Draco standing just inside the copse of trees that surrounded the pitch, watching the scene with dull grey eyes.

* * *

The kiss was short but very sweet, and it had Harry's heart lifting in a curious way as he took the leaf-strewn path home. He didn't bother to take a shower in the locker rooms; feeling a little embarrassed that he might see his new boyfriend in the nude and…. Harry had had to cut of his train of thought before he got carried away. So all he did was grab his clothes from his locker, and hurry back down the short trail through the woods to the main part of campus. 

It was strange, he thought, that as many times as he might have seen some of his male team mates in the nude, that he never really looked at them, and now that he was going to be dating one of them, it felt awkward to bathe around them. Especially Mikhail. Harry flushed a brilliant red to match the trimming on his black Sirens' Quidditch robes at the images that tried to permeate his brain again.

_God, it's no wonder I like boys…_

Then Harry thought of Draco.

He still liked Draco, _oh yes_, and was still highly attracted to him without a doubt. But his first _real_ relationship…well…it was a new enough experience without the whole 'gay' thing coming into play. Exciting, and just a little bit scary, too.

But, oh gods…_Draco_…. Harry shivered pleasantly at the memory of that pale and lithe body beneath his, touching him everywhere, of the pressure of Draco's soft lips on his mouth and throat, of the feel of Draco's cock in his mouth…. Harry had to stop for a minute and compose himself before moving onward. He had to focus on Draco's current aptitude to being a right foul git, not his overwhelming sex appeal that would drive just about anyone insane. This is, _if_ they could get past the cold and ruthless façade that the fair man wore much too often around far too many people.

But, Harry mused, that was just the way Draco was. He probably would never be completely open or un-bastardly around anyone he didn't give a rat's ass about. Harry had learned to accept Draco's cool demeanour and rather callous ways. It was some of his charm, in an unconventional way.

Harry sighed as he entered his dorm, resolving himself again that dating Mikhail was just fine, and that really, it was what Draco wanted him to do. That niggling voice that tried to remind Harry that he wasn't sure if it was something _he_ wanted to do was quickly overridden by the smile that graced Harry's lips as he remembered the sweet kisses he and Mikhail had already shared.

Perhaps, even, he would be happy with Mikhail, and Draco's warning about the consequences of being with him or Raven wouldn't matter anymore. Yes, dating Mikhail would be a good thing.

It had to be.

* * *

After his rather long shower that night, in which he was pretty sure he used all of the hot water, Draco found himself trying to reorganise his desk in an effort to keep his mind off of 'other things'. The cool winds from outside crept into through the cracks in the window, causing goose bumps to rise on his bare torso. He couldn't think of the charm off-hand that would seal the window more properly against the elements, and decided to find it as soon as his task was finished. He moved some leaflets aside and came across his personal journal, which was even more buried than it had been the previous morning, after he had hastily hid it from Harry. 

He glanced at his unfinished entry, wondering what he would have said if had finished his thoughts. Whatever he had been thinking seemed so far away, like a different place and time, yet a place and time not so long ago when Draco truly realised just how convoluted things had gotten.

He flipped back to the beginning of the journal, settling back in his chair as he read each entry, wondering when things had changed. Oh, he _knew_ they had, but not _when._

Draco stared incredulously at his own denial. It had been there since the beginning; since day one. Ingrained so deeply that he did not even know it for what it truly was. Draco did not kid himself into believing that the denial was about his feelings for Harry at first; no, then it had simply been his denial at wanting to move on, of wanting to finally get past his animosity for Potter, to rid himself of any possible misgivings. He had done some petty and horrible things to Harry and his friends in years past, and not all of it could be brushed away with the excuse of adolescence. So, first he had to convince himself that he really did want to move on, and then he had to convince himself that what feelings he'd been developing for Harry weren't just because he had to swallow his pride and get to know him _that_ way; but that he really did start to like Harry. More than he thought he would. And also, much quicker than he had ever expected out of _this_ thing in his life…he had fallen in love.

But loving Harry came at a high price, higher than he would have thought, and it was almost too painful, and most certainly too confusing. How on earth did he allow himself to fall in love with two people? His father was probably turning over in his shallow gave, and his mother was probably crying sighs in her mausoleum.

Draco hated not knowing what to do, but not only had he never been in this kind of situation before, but he never anticipated it either; never even _dreamed_ of it. So unfathomable had it been before it had happened to him that it stung to realise that he really had no one to talk to about this sort of thing. He only ever talked to Raven, and that was out. Or Blaise. Draco snorted. Blaise. That man would never understand; he was too fickle and too horny to have fallen in love with anyone, let alone two people.

And as if the follies of love weren't enough for the tormented Malfoy, life's little ironies decided to step in too; quite literally, in fact, as there was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal the head of Blaise; British-Italian Playboy Extraordinaire.

"Draco? Can I come in?"

Draco turned towards the door, standing up and slipping the journal into his desk drawer. "Yeah, come in."

Blaise continued into the room, closing the door behind him and turning to Draco, who had been behind the door at his desk. "Hey."

Draco lifted a dusty brow. "'Hey'? When have you ever been so inarticulate?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "And when have _you_ been one to mope around?"

Draco turned away, picking up his strewn Quidditch gear and putting it in its proper place or throwing it in the hamper. "I'm not moping. I _don__'t_ mope. Moping is for those who feel that they have no way out of their current situation, and since I know that there is a way out of everything, I am not moping."

Draco felt Blaise come up behind him, his back twitching as a cool hand touched his warmer shoulder, the rest of his body still as marble.

"Draco," Blaise said softly, "I may seem oblivious most of the time, but I've never seen Raven look at you like she did today. For Merlinsakes, she didn't even _sit_ with us during classes! I'm not the only one who noticed that." He came around and looked Draco straight in the eye. "Don't bullshit me, Drake. What happened? I know it must have something to do with Potter; I am quite aware that he never left Saturday night. Did you…?" Blaise trailed off, his gaze neither incriminating nor repulsed, only resolute and worried.

"Fuck?" the blond replied bluntly. "No." And Draco turned away again, going to his dresser and taking out a plain black tee shirt and pulling it over his head.

Blaise frowned. "Thanks for the visual, Drake."

"Glad to be of service." His tone did not stimulate further conversation.

"Don't be a bastard, Draco. You and Raven are my best friends. Sure, you've had spats, but never like this. I can't help unless I know what's going on."

Calmly, Draco replied, "What, exactly, do you want to know?" He picked up his comb and ran it through his white-blond hair.

"Well…why is Raven mad at you, for one."

"I snapped at her."

"You snapped at her," Blaise repeated.

"Yes."

"And _that_ made her royally pissed off at you? C'mon Draco, I've never seen her like this before…and I've been friends with her longer than you. Do you really expect me to believe that she's that mad at you because you _snapped_ at her?"

"I suppose so."

Blaise sighed in exasperation.

"What?" Draco spat, turning around. "What would you like to know? That Raven bet me I couldn't seduce Potter? That she has designs to have both of us? At the same time? That Potter sucked me off Saturday night and I fucking-well enjoyed it? That instead of seducing Potter, I fell in love with him?" His words were rising in intensity, and Blaise just stood there, dumbfounded. "Is that what you wanted to know, Blaise? Because that's what happened. That's what's been going on. And somehow, I managed to cock-up my relationships with both Harry and Raven in less than twenty-four hours. And fuck-all if I know what to do about it," he finished.

Despite all Blaise had seen in his young years, nothing could have prepared him for what he had heard from Draco's mouth. The images Draco's blunt wording provided were more graphic than Blaise would have ever wished to think about in regards to Harry Potter.

"I…I don't know what to say…" he stuttered faintly.

Draco sat down on his bed, running a hand through his hair. "You don't have to say anything. I got myself in this mess, and I'll get myself out of it."

Blaise watched Draco for a moment before sitting down beside him.

"You must have a lot of questions," Draco said eventually.

Blaise swallowed. "Yeah…I suppose I do. Will you bother to answer them?"

"You'll pester me until I do. But," Draco said a bit louder and with a bit more force, "you can't tell anyone else. I want as few people to know what I'm about to tell you as possible. I only have to answer to Raven, Harry, and myself."

"Understood." Blaise took a deep breath, and ploughed in. "I'm not going to bother asking about Raven's _designs_ towards you and Potter—I know how her mind works; she was intrigued by you for a while before she made any moves in your direction; before she fell utterly in love with you—so I can probably guess how her fascination with Potter came about. But what I will ask you, is _how on earth_ did you let her talk you into _seducing_ him?"

"Blaise, don't get huffy with me," Draco said darkly. "Or this little 'confession' is over right now."

"But will you answer the question?"

Levelling a warning glare at his friend, Draco replied, "All I can really say in my defence is that that woman knows me too well, and played on my weaknesses."

"And what weakness is that?"

"She challenged me. She challenged my ability to seduce, basically, and used that and my libido to coerce me into thinking that all I had to do was…get Potter, and she'd be mine."

"'Get Potter' how? I mean—what were you supposed to do with him?"

"What do you think, Blaise? Have a tea party? I was supposed to _seduce_ him, take him to bed, mess with him a bit, and then drop him."

"Even you're not that low."

"Yeah, well apparently I'm that stupid. I only realised later what Raven really wanted out the whole situation."

"And what was that?"

"That not only does she want both of us in a sexual way, but she wanted to drag him out of his shell, which was not entirely a bad idea, of course, but she wanted us to get together sexually, and the only way to do that was to get us talking first. So, I took her advice, which she had been giving me for months I now realise, and talked to Potter. And eventually, I found him attractive, and then we were friends. And now I love him." Here, Draco paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "She _wanted_ me to love him. But I don't really understand why. Does she really think a three-way relationship is going to work?" he mused more to himself. "I know she cares about him, loves him even, but honestly, Raven and I are together now…I was thinking of marriage…how does she expect me to just let either of them go? Because we all can't stay together like she wants forever…if at all. And Harry…I don't know how he really feels about that whole thing. As far as I know, he's just realised that he can be attracted to blokes…and so did I." A shadow of his usual smirk graced his lips. "Well, that's a lie. I only like Potter."

Blaise stayed quiet for a moment, sifting through the information. "So…Raven's 'what', now? Mad at you for accomplishing your goal?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I don't think it's that. Again, I snapped at her, telling her that she was trying to push Harry at me, that he wasn't ready, and she didn't take it too well. That was, of course, a mere hour or so before Harry and I…'got together'."

"I'm taking this is when he gave you…?" Blaise swallowed as those images returned.

"A blowjob? Yeah. It was the same night. The night Raven had us both posing in the nude."

The Brit-Italian almost swallowed his tongue. "Excuse me?"

Draco nodded. "She's used Harry as a model before, and wanted to do both of us…for her new photography obsession," Draco said in almost sarcastic exasperation, rolling his eyes.

Blaise groaned. He had been Raven's guinea pig over the weeks, letting her hang around and take pictures of him no matter what he was doing. The only place he wouldn't let her follow was into the bathroom…she seemed to have no qualms with taking pictures of him taking a shower, shaving, or taking a piss. "Capturing still moments like she couldn't do with paint" was her excuse…her new motto, it seemed. As appealing as it might have seemed to have her watch him showering, he'd rather keep old temptations away. There was no use in tempting fate. Or Draco's wrath. He'd buried that line of thought long ago, and had no intention of ever giving it a chance to grow back.

"Well," Blaise said, "Do you know what you want? Do you want them both? Or are you just indulging Raven?"

Draco stared at one spot on the hardwood floor for a few moments, a furrow growing in his brow. "I…I love Raven. I mean, she's been there for me when things have been really bad, and I really grew to love her. And Harry…god…I know I just realised I loved him recently, but it feels like much longer, you know?" He looked over at his friend.

Blaise smirked. "No, I can't quite say I do know. But I think I know what you mean. You've known Potter for ages…you guys have always been in each others lives, right? Always antagonising each other…always trying to one-up the other…and Raven, you never really paid attention to her until she started paying attention to you. After Initiation."

Draco nodded knowingly. "Yes. So, to answer your question, yes, I suppose I do want them both. I guess I'm just as selfish as Raven in that respect. I want them both, regardless of Harry's feelings, though he does know both of ours. He told me that it's his decision to make: whether he wants to be with the both of us, one of us, or neither. He'll weigh the consequences. He knows that I've been thinking of marrying Raven, so he knows the potential for him to get kicked out of the picture. Saturday night, even after he heard that, he apparently didn't care." Draco sighed. "I just needed him to know the reality, you know? He…he's never been with anyone before."

"He hasn't? Not _anyone_? Ever?"

"No. He kissed a girl in 5th year; that's it. Other than me, of course. I'm basically his first everything. Except Chaikovsky."

"Your Quidditch Captain? How the hell does _he_ play in? How complicated _is_ this mess?"

Draco chuckled without humour. "More than I'd really like to think about. Friday night, Chaikovsky apparently kissed Harry. Scared him nearly senseless. Harry didn't understand why he didn't beat the shit out of the guy. Wondered why he even kissed him back. Harry didn't even think, really, of being with guys. I think it had only crossed his mind once or twice, and Chaikovsky took him by surprise."

"And then the next night he's giving you a blowjob? Did you, like, persuade him or something? How'd he get so comfortable with the idea so quickly?"

"He told me that he's had a few thoughts of the…salacious kind, about me. So, like I said, he had thought of it a few times, but was probably still trying to decide if he actually liked me that way or not, and then Chaikovsky kissed him."

"You seemed to have this pretty figured out."

"I've had a lot of time to think, with neither Raven nor Harry talking to me." Draco flopped back on his bed. "And now, Harry's just asked Chaikovsky out. I saw him do it. They even kissed again. They didn't know I was there."

"But I…. Does Potter like you or not?" Blaise asked in exasperated confusion.

"Oh, he likes me. I'm just an idiot. I told him yesterday morning after we woke up that I had to patch things up with Raven before he and I could really try being together, and he didn't take it well. I told him to go date the Captain for a while."

"Yeah…you are an idiot."

"Hey!" Draco swatted at his friend's arm.

"I'm using your words; don't get defensive." Blaise lied down next to the blond. "I honestly don't know what to do, or how to help you, Drake. It's a right clusterfuck."

Draco closed his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But…thanks. For listening anyway. I've not really had anyone to talk to about this sort of thing…even Raven, really. We never had to talk about something like this. There's been no one of any importance between her and Pansy. And now, she's part of the problem."

"I really wish I could do something to help. You and Raven are like family. I want you two to be happy."

"Thank you, Blaise."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me talking to anyone. I'm not sure anyone would believe me. You and Harry Potter? Lovers? I'm still having a hard time believing it."

Draco smirked. "For how inexperienced he is, he sure catches on quickly. He kisses quite well. And he's incredibly passionate. Merlin, I don't think I could've even found my head even though it's attached to my shoulders. I couldn't think of anything else but him. Which is probably why I let things go as far as I did."

"Okay, firstly, no more talking about Gryffindors—_especially_ Harry Potter—and how they are in bed, in my presence. It's disturbing. And secondly, it sounds like you've got it bad. Like…Hufflepuff bad."

Draco groaned, covering his eyes and rolling onto his side. "Ugh. Don't tell me that. Next thing I know, I'll be sending him flowers and bloody sonnets about undying love. Gross."

Blaise laughed before a short silence descended upon them. "Hmmm…you know what Potter said to me that one night of that really bad storm?"

"No, what?"

"Well, after I threatened him with massive amounts of pain if he ever fucked with you and Raven's relationship—I still need to do something about that, apparently—he told me about how that even though we're not at Hogwarts anymore, we still associate everyone with our Houses from school. I mean, even our dorms here are divided by our old Houses. It was a rather interesting insight."

"Yes…that is interesting. Some habits are just a little harder to break than others."

"But apparently, getting over your hate for Potter is easier?"

Draco shook his head. "No…that one was still hard…but it…I don't know, dissolved itself over time, I think. It was easier than I thought it would be. The hard part was getting Harry to want to change our relationship as well. And what's this with threatening him with 'massive amounts of pain'?"

Blaise chuckled. "Actually, I didn't get that far, I started to threaten him, but he cut me off and told me he had no intention of 'messing up' your relationship."

"You're not still going to do anything about it, are you? Because this really isn't _Harry__'s_ fault. I mean, he is directly related, but it's hardly his doing. Raven and I…we're what's fucked this up. I'm not sure if my libido is what's been driving me…the idea that I can have both of them…I don't know. But if I had thought about what Raven was really going after, I never would have said yes to that bet." He sighed. "Merlin,_ that bet_. That's what it all comes down to in the end. I'll have to tell Harry eventually. And then he'll go back to hating me."

"Why? It sounds like the bet was merely the catalyst to get you moving, Draco. Raven used it to get you to do what she wanted."

"That's just it. Not everything I've done over the past three or four weeks has been just me and my feelings. A lot of it has been premeditated _by_ me to get Harry to do what _I_ wanted. I was doing it to make Raven happy. At first. Then I started doing it for myself. For Harry. I figured out what Raven was trying to do, and I agreed. But the ends don't always justify the means. I'll have to tell him. Sometime soon."

"Suit yourself for a long and painful death then, mate. Whether I like Potter or not, there's got to be a better way to resolve this situation. The bet doesn't matter anymore. You love Potter, you love Raven. Potter likes you, and Raven loves you and Potter. It's a situation tangled by heartstrings, now—not manipulation." Blaise ignored Draco's frown at his words. The blond wasn't sure he agreed. "How does Potter feel about Raven?"

"He likes her." The blond looked over at his friend. "And when did you become so knowledgeable in the 'fine art' of relationship dynamics? Talking about heartstrings and whatnot. You're as bachelor as they come."

"Yeah, but just because I don't get into relationships much doesn't mean I don't observe them. I can look at them from a farther point of view than the people involved. And I know you and Raven like the back of my hand. It's Potter that I can't help you with. He throws something entirely different into it."

"I'll second that." The lay there for a few moments, musing about the situation, before Draco said, "Do you have anyone new in your sights lately? You've been awfully celibate."

Blaise shrugged. "I've been concentrating on school. I had a few flings when I went to see Nonna and Papa over the summer, but right now…I've been looking at Daphne."

"Daph, huh?"

"Yeah. Basically, she's a bitch. But I like them a little feisty. She'll be putty in my hands in no time." Blaise's grin was feral.

Draco matched the grin, remembering times when he and Blaise would plot which girl would be next, or which ones to utterly humiliate. "So why her now?"

"Well, like you said, it's been a while. I've otherwise been preoccupied."

"No, I mean, why now? Why not back at Hogwarts?"

Blaise's smile disappeared and his gaze turned distant. "I…don't know. Back then I guess I was trying to think better of my housemates, you know? Have them not just be 'the next one'. I had more respect for Daph than that. And I…had a more serious crush on someone else. But nothing came of it."

"Who was it?"

Blaise paused for a tense moment. "Raven."

Draco chuckled. "Thought so."

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be? I know you, Blaise. I'm sure that you saw that she was utterly in love with me, and being such the friend you are, you backed off. I'm touched. Really."

"Gee…thanks, Draco."

Draco laughed. "Oh, you know what I mean. She's with me now. And you obviously fancy Daphne, so why should I be worried? I shouldn't be, should I?"

Blaise waved him off. "No, no. I buried that long ago. I'm happy for you two. I hope things work out."

"Me too. So do you not respect Daphne anymore, and that's why you're going after her, or is it more than that?"

Blaise shrugged. "I still respect her. She's bloody gorgeous. I'd like to see if anything works out."

"Blaise Zabini, are you telling me you want to settle down?"

Another shrug. "Maybe. We'll see what happens."

"Blaise Zabini, Wizard Playboy, settling down. Will wonders never cease?"

Blaise pushed his cynical friend away. "Oh shove off, Draco! I could say the same about you!"

Draco grabbed a pillow and hit the other man with it. "No you can't! I've hardly slept with anyone!"

Blaise stole the pillow from Draco so the blond had to snatch the other one in defence. "Oh? What about Tina? And Madeline, that girl from France? Or Jackie? And what about those Italian girls we met before seventh year? Did you not sleep with all of them?"

Draco got on his knees and whacked at Blaise's head, who parried with his own feather-stuffed protection. "No, actually. I didn't _sleep_ with all of them. We messed around, mostly. I was _trying_ to be good. For Pansy's sake."

"Didn't stop you from fucking those random chits after she died, did it?" Blaise said good-naturedly with a swipe of his pillow.

Draco stopped and gave Blaise a serious look. "Yeah. I know. I was in a bad place, Blaise. I don't remember their names or their faces, and that's fine with me. But at least I let Raven help me through it as best she could from so far away."

Blaise smiled. "Which is why I know you'll be fine."

Draco returned the grin. Right before he thwacked Blaise really hard on the ear.

* * *

Harry quickly realised that life on any campus was just as it was at Hogwarts. Word of the Boy Saviour (who wasn't quite a boy anymore, he had to remind them) and his Quidditch Captain (who was _male_!) dating spread faster than Snape giving out detentions to a classroom of Gryffindor first years. So again, Harry found himself the scrutiny of the Wizard press. _Witch_ _Weekly_ wept, _The Daily Prophet_ schemed, and Luna asked Harry for an exclusive interview of the truth for _The Quibbler_. 

Smiling graciously, Harry accepted the offer.

Rita Skeeter, of course, Apparated in as soon as she heard the news, which was just after kippers the next morning. Harry immediately snubbed her, still not trusting the Animagus after all these years. While she didn't write slander so much anymore about Harry, she still managed to suggest some outrageous things during the war, which had the effect of spreading speculation as fact, per usual.

"But Harry," she had implored, "I've been good. I promise the truth." Rita simpered and placed a scarlet-tipped hand on her breast.

"I'm _terribly_ sorry, Rita, old girl," Harry replied, a smile on his face and a wicked gleam in his eye that Ron was _sure_ he'd learned from Malfoy, but dismissed as he caught the dangerous glare forming on Rita's face at being called 'old girl'. "But I've already promised exclusive rights to _The Quibbler_, and their correspondent, Luna Lovegood." And by that time, he had.

"Luna Lovegood?" Rita repeated, as if the name were sour on her tongue, "Isn't she the editor's daughter?"

"Yes, and a dear friend of mine."

Rita narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "She'll be biased in your favour," she said bluntly.

Harry's smile turned almost feral. "Even if she was, it's better than someone who's not. Good day, Ms. Skeeter." And he shut the door in her face.

"Beetle Skeeter", however, would not be dissuaded, and tailed Harry and Mikhail all week, her parchment and quill ready, and her photographer close behind.

Harry, however, had been quick to warn Mikhail from the off about the potential publicity disasters waiting to happen upon word of their relationship spreading and leaving campus. Mikhail cocked an eyebrow, but smiled, pulling Harry in for another one of those sweet kisses.

"I'll deal with it," he had said. "I wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that you're Harry Potter when I kissed you the other night."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Really? I had nearly forgotten. That bitch Rita Skeeter has actually managed to leave me alone for the past few years."

"Nothing to report, I suppose."

"Not until now. I expect her to be here bright and early tomorrow."

Mikhail couldn't help but smile at the small pout on Harry's mouth. Kissing it away he said, "Don't worry. We can always get some type of ban on her or something if need be. Now we should probably go shower, the rest of the team will be out soon." He looked over Harry's shoulder to the locker rooms across the pitch.

That was when Harry said he'd feel a bit more comfortable if he took his shower at home, and went to retrieve his school things before heading home.

But now that he was under 24-hour surveillance by Skeeter and her lackey, not to mention all of his classmates and peers, professors, and anyone in the village, Harry was finding it harder and harder to feel reassured by Mikhail's words. He hadn't seen Mikhail outside of practice at all this week, but they had made tentative plans to go to Celestine's that Friday. Barring Skeeter didn't piss him off so much that he'd have to dispose of her, and thusly, be sent to Azkaban for life. He'd gotten pretty far being the Boy-Who-Lived, he knew that, but he could tell his name was running thin.

Letters were pouring in as usual, and while Harry couldn't look at them, Hermione did read the first few or so, just to get a feel for how the Wizarding World was taking his newfound sexuality. According to her, young witches were crying, not just all over Britain, but most of Europe too, and many mothers were either tsking in disapproval, or wishing him happiness. Harry had expected all of this, and only burned any other letters he received from crying girls and angry mothers, or, in some cases, disgusted men. However, something that Harry wasn't expecting, was the apparent onslaught of letters from young men, some even boys, all delighted at the news of his evident like of same sex. These he actually took from Hermione and read, and a few of them even made him blush a bright red colour, before he quickly handed them back.

"What? What is it, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry looked away. "Some of them…want to _do_ things to me," Harry mumbled.

"_Do things_ to you? Like…like _those_ kinds of things? Like what you did with Malfoy?"

"Worse, mate. Worse." Harry shuddered, and Ron made a gagging noise.

"Well, overall, they all seem to be taking it rather well, Harry," Hermione said, taking the opened letters and throwing them out. She had long ago disposed of the Howlers and other malicious letters, getting into habit of checking them before opening.

"Yeah, but now I need to deal with Rita."

And so the week went on. Harry gave his official and very exclusive interview to Luna, who quickly got it to her father for the new issue of the eclectic magazine. Harry went to classes, where thankfully, Rita couldn't venture, and then he went to Quidditch practice, where he had to bear her damn photographer snapping pictures of him and Mikhail, and then he had to dodge Rita as she tried to question either him or Mikhail before and after practices.

"Ms. Skeeter," Mikhail said one day, "if you don't leave the pitch, I'm going to have to ask for a restraining order of some kind. You're distracting my team."

"Why, Mr. Chaikovsky, I am so terribly sorry. I'll be happy to leave if you'd just give me a little interview."

"I'm not that stupid, Ms. Skeeter. But if you do refuse to leave this campus, and the campus officials cannot remove you, I'll be happy to speak to my father, whose law-wizard firm will be more than happy to help me." As Harry watched on with the rest of the team, he tried hard to hide his smile. Apparently, Mikhail wasn't afraid to show a little gut. Harry wondered what house he had been in at Hogwarts, as he certainly didn't remember him.

Rita's 'sweet' demeanour gave way immediately, and she glared up at the Quidditch Captain. "You cannot stop the press, young man. The people of this community want to know the truth!"

"Then I suggest that they pick up a Quibbler next week, madam. Harry has already given all the information he's going to, and I have no comment on the issue. Now leave."

Rita, clearly displeased, turned away with a muttered curse, her lackey trailing behind her like always.

Mikhail turned back to his team, all of who were all laughing hysterically. Well, Draco was smirking, at any rate. "It won't keep her from staying in Rookwood, but hopefully, she won't be on campus anymore. Alright you sweaty dogs, into the locker room!"

Harry trailed behind, but only gave Mikhail a kiss when they were just inside the door to the locker room. "Are you always so chivalrous?" asked Harry, grinning.

Mikhail smirked, which, Harry noted, was a far cry from having the acerbic taste to it that he had gotten so used to from Draco. "I'd like to think so," the older man replied.

"Hmm, maybe I should have started dating you sooner. You could have been chivalrous all the time."

Ron made some semi-disgusted noise from around the corner of lockers, which was mimicked by a passing Draco as the blond had grabbed his things so he could go to his own shower at home. Harry's brow creased slightly, but let it slide, not wanting to get into what would probably be some sort of verbal squall that he knew he couldn't hold up in. The rest of his male teammates snickered, and Harry felt lucky to have such a relatively open team to back him and Mikhail up. They seemed to be okay with the two men dating, and only a few of them made offhand comments about sucking cock to be allowed to play, but someone else only shot back that Malfoy was the only one who that statement could be applied. The others acquiesced that yeah: Draco was the one who's playing ability and status on the team was in question.

As long as either of them didn't hit on any of the others, where they stuck their pricks was really none of anyone's business. Though, Jesse Morrison did have the gall to ask if either of them had checked the rest of them out.

Harry shook his head and Mikhail said, "No, but did you _want_ us to?"Jesse flushed, the rest of the guys laughed, and Mikhail hooked an arm around Harry's neck. "Nope mates. Only this looker here," he finished. And that was that.

Thankfully.

But now, Ron said, "Were Hermione and I that sickening when we fell in love?"

Harry turned and yelled, "Yes! And we're _not_ in _love_, Ron. We only got together two days ago."

"And you're already making the rest of us ralph."

"Young love," Danny Darby sighed in falsetto, heading to the showers.

"We're _not_ in _love_," Harry asserted. "Honestly."

Mikhail cocked his eyebrow like always and spared his new boyfriend a questioning glance, who didn't notice.

"Well," Harry said to Mikhail, "I'm going to go home and shower. Looks like that will become the norm around here."

The taller man removed his arm and stepped back. "Still afraid to see me in the nude? I'm not usually so conceited, but I honestly don't think I'm _that_ ugly. Unless you're afraid you'll jump me?" It was paired with a lascivious wink.

Harry's eyes widened and he couldn't help but blush. It was starting to become a rather bothersome reaction to anything even remotely sexual. He mentally sighed. _Perhaps I__'m not sure how I'd react to you around the other guys, or because I feel like I might be betraying Draco if I do… Kissing is enough right now. _Should_ be enough._ Harry had to push away the nagging reminder of just why he _had_ asked Mikhail out. To feel like he did with Draco, and to get back at him a little.

"Perhaps," he finally mumbled, feeling a bit troubled, and tried not to let it show.

Mikhail laughed and patted his head, as if he were a child. "That's fine, Harry. We'll move slow, yeah?"

"Yeah." With one last peck, Harry gathered his things, then left.

_That was one thing_; Harry thought to himself as he walked home, it seemed so natural to just give Mikhail kisses here and there. But when confronted with the physical side of things, he suddenly wasn't so sure. It didn't have anything to do with Mikhail being attractive or not. He _was_, Harry thought, so that wasn't the problem. The problem was that on top of feeling like he'd be betraying Draco in some strange way (which Harry still couldn't figure out the reasoning behind), he felt self-conscious about his abilities in bed. Draco hadn't really given him any verbal praise, other than the occasional gasp or short cry of what most certainly would have been pleasure.

Mikhail probably knew that Harry's experience with girls was limited, and obviously knew Harry had never been with a guy (save for Draco, who only three other people knew about, and Harry didn't fancy letting anyone else in on the 'secret'). Mikhail just seemed so self-assured, and Harry was rather intimidated by it. Whatever overwhelming lust had taken over his senses when he was with Draco that night was long gone, and now Harry only felt unsure of himself. Perhaps it was time to break out that book again.

But that thought immediately led to Draco in general, and it all became a confusing mess of emotions and experiences. Yelling at Draco, laughing with Draco, touching Draco, kissing Draco, breathing Draco…the list of actions and sensory innervations still could make Harry breathless just thinking about it. And the emotions that went with those physical memories only left him more confused and his chest ached just a little bit more.

Did he miss Draco? Did Draco just annoy him? Hurt him? Or did Harry like Draco, quite a bit more than he originally thought?

It was all so confusing, and while even being with Mikhail wasn't 'simple', Harry knew how he felt about the bloke; he was attractive, willing, and a nice guy to be around. He liked him, and was actually starting to fancy the idea of being around him a bit longer. In retrospect, Harry realised that he did jump into this without much of a clear plan; the idea was to get Draco jealous, right? And fulfil his desires along the way…then let Mikhail down gently. Yeah…that's right.

Harry didn't care if he was being stubborn in refusing to see the real picture at stake here. He resolved himself again of his actions and direct feelings for Mikhail, deciding that again, it was his life, we was to do what he liked with it…experiment a little, try new things, and just flat out _enjoy_ life.

It was what helped him get through the night, at any rate.

* * *

Rita Skeeter stood just outside of the ring of buildings, looking between dormitories three and four to the courtyard beyond. 

It was no use turning into a beetle…the headmaster of the small school effectively and _magically_ banned her from setting foot on campus. He claimed that she was distracting the students from learning. _Pish-posh_, she thought. It wasn't as if she was going into the classrooms…just asking everyone that would talk to her if they wouldn't mind sparing a bit of information about the Boy-er, Man Potter, his habits, and just how they felt about this newest development. She was met with just as many cold glares as she was met with those people eager to tell her what they could. But Rita was far from stupid. She knew that those people just wanted the fame…they knew nothing more about Harry Potter than the average wizard off the cobblestone.

That didn't mean she wouldn't take their accounts to heart, however.

The _Prophet_ was getting impatient, on the other hand. She'd managed to secure a front-page article…if only she had an article to give. One full and ready for the front-page, at least. It was just her luck…that insipid Loony Lovegood and her father's crack of a magazine was printing their _exclusive_ interview on Monday, and she had to counter that. But the _Prophet_ wanted something _now_…something to blow them all out of the water, and lock-in her position at the _Prophet_ again.

Just as she was going to turn back and pull it all out of her ass, her sharp eyes detected movement before her to the right.

_My, my, my…if it isn't the secret-giver himself…_

"Draco! Draco, darling!" Rita called and waved the striking man over. And yes, was he _striking…_it was a shame he was so many years her junior…his tongue was too wicked, besides. Better keep things on a business level.

Draco stopped as he heard his name being called, his flaxen head turning and finding that _woman_, smiling like a Cheshire cat and waving at him. _Oh, fuck._ He would rather like to forget his part in making Harry's life difficult with the help of Rita Skeeter back in fourth year. Though, Draco mused, it was still rather amusing. Potter and Granger? Ha!

Not moving an inch he said clearly, "What do you want, you old bat?"

Rita pouted in what Draco saw was a gut turning way, but he was sure she thought she looked wounded. "Draco, darling…you wound me. Won't you come talk to an old friend? I'm in town…we could get some tea this afternoon…what do you say?"

"I say, 'bugger off.' I'm not going to give into your machinations to deface Harry." He turned to walk away, and just as Rita opened her mouth, he realised his mistake.

"'_Harry'_ is it, now? Last time we talked, it was _'Potter'_. When did _that_ change?" It was said in that sickly sweet honeyed tone that Draco despised.

Draco turned and smiled in his own Cheshire way at the older made-up woman. "Long before you came along, old girl. War changes a man. And Harry's friendship is more valuable than giving you ammunition. Don't think I don't know what you're up to. You won't get a thing out of me. And, if you deign to write a single slanderous syllable about Harry Potter or anything involving his personal affairs, I will personally make sure that your life is ruined. Like you tried to ruin his, and are trying to do again now. I'm sure Mr. Chaikovsky's father will be most pleased to assist me, should it come to that."

Rita's eyes narrowed. "You think you have so much power still, Mr. Malfoy. You're name is mostly trash now, you realise? Your house in shambles, your parents dead, your money forfeit to the Ministry… How do you expect to pull off ruining my life-"

But Rita didn't get a chance to finish, as Draco was suddenly very close to her, and his wand was out, pressing into her windpipe.

"There _are_ other ways, Skeeter. So _don__'t_ piss me off. Or give me ammunition of my own." And with that rather _un_veiled threat, Draco Malfoy was gone.

Rita rubbed lightly at her throat, tingling all over. "Ah…but dear Draco…you've most certainly given me my own ammunition." And so Rita slinked back off to Rookwood to write her article. _The_ article to make her career.

And Draco Malfoy's threats were gone like a wisp of smoke in her convoluted and manipulative mind.

* * *

It was too cold out, but Draco sat there anyway, on the steps of Number Three, smelling rain and snow on the air and twirling a scarlet leaf between forefinger and thumb. His heavy cloak didn't do much to ward off the cold stillness of the afternoon, nor his heavy thoughts. 

He wasn't one for getting so lost in thought as to be unaware of his surroundings; again, some behaviours stay ingrained, regardless of the lack of necessity for them anymore. However, he was slightly startled when a small black book was shoved under his nose, the brass edges looking dull in the surreal light.

Even as he took the journal, he avoided her gaze. But he could see her scarlet jumper, black skirt and robes out of the corner of his eye, and wondered idly when she stopped wearing green.

There was a still moment, where Draco looked at the journal cradled in his lap, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, and the leaf hanging limp in his hand, while Raven studied him, before finally sitting down beside him, tucking her skirts beneath her.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, still not looking up. For everything, he seemed to say. He wasn't sure why, but he just couldn't be brave about this…because he wasn't. He never had been. He had run from the Dark Forest in first year, he had run when Harry was invisible and threw mud at him in third year, he had run during the war, and he had run from Harry now, but not quite so literally as all the other times. That didn't make his constant running away from frightening situations any different, it just happened again, is all. He was still running, even when all he was doing was sitting there, staring at a stupid book. Nothing more than leather and metal and paper and ink, but he still kept running. Was that all his life was a testament to? How to run away from things? The stubborn part of him scoffed at the idea, and resolved to look up, to give Raven the courtesy, and himself the courage. But the rest of him was scared. Talking it all out with Blaise had been fine, but in the harsh reality of it all, with a third of the equation sitting but a few inches from him, he failed. He was still a scared and pitiful young man, hiding from things he did not want to face, regardless of how much he had to.

Raven took a deep breath beside him and said, "I'm sorry for being selfish."

Draco finally looked up at her, and she looked wonderful. Dark glossy hair pulled back from her face with a red ribbon, a rose to her pale cheeks, her green eyes sparkling, even with the weight of the situation upon them. What was she referring to? Shaking his head, knowing she would see it in her peripheral vision, he replied, "You weren't being selfish. You were trying to help Harry."

A bark of despondent laughter escaped from her lips, and her eyes met his. "By forcing him into an uncomfortable situation? By shoving you at him? All for my own benefit, Draco. This all started because I'm a selfish bitch, don't you remember? It doesn't matter if Harry was ready for it…my fun has gone too far."

"What are you saying?"

"Unless Harry wants it, _really_ wants it, we've got to stop it, Draco. It's not right. He's got to know that what he's getting into isn't permanent…it won't last, it…" She trailed off, losing whatever it was she was going to say.

"He _does_ know. C'mon, Raven, why do you think he's so mad at me? Surely, you two have talked?"

"Yes, and I am aware that he knows, but Draco, I don't think Harry really _understands_. He cares for you. More than I think he realises. And I want that for him. But I want you as well. And other than my physical attraction to Harry, he just doesn't factor into the equation anymore."

"How convenient for you." Draco grimaced, looking away. "Are you suggesting that I just let Harry go? Just let him stay with Chaikovsky?"

"I…yes. Yes. I think you should. You put yourself in this particular one, Draco. You told Harry to go date him…did you think he wouldn't do it just to spite you? No, he's doing it to make you jealous. Like any normal person would do to win someone back."

Draco stared at her incredulously. "Harry wouldn't do that! Use someone…he wouldn't know how! He's just not like that…not manipulative…like you and me. And he doesn't need to _win_ me back. He can have me…I just need you too."

"And I need you. But we can't have Harry. Not the way we want or he needs."

Draco grabbed the book from his lap and stood. "Make up your mind! You've always gone on about what Harry needs, or what he doesn't need… He needs us, he needs love, he needs to open up, someone to talk to, whatever! What I say is why not let Harry decide what he needs or doesn't need. If he wants to be with us, let him! It's his choice to make. We're no better than any of his friends, deciding what's best for him his whole life. It's _his_ turn to make the decisions, Raven. And I'll wait until he does." With pursed lips and a painful gaze, Draco went inside and shut the door behind him, leaving Raven on the porch.

Raven sat there in the waning afternoon for a long time, staring at nothing and everything at the same time. She was slightly stung by Draco's words, but not enough for tears. Because Draco was right, and she knew this. After reading the journal, her eyes passing over words describing every transgression between the two men she cared for, she did some heavy thinking. And slowly, she came to realise that yes, while she had wanted Harry and Draco to care for each other, love each other even, she was fooling herself if she thought that either of them would walk away from it, just as soon as she, yes _she_, wanted them to.

She was a bloody fool. Manipulative and selfish and _stupid_ to the core.

It wasn't that Harry didn't matter anymore, that it was only physical attraction. It wasn't that she didn't still care for him, she just knew that she wanted to marry Draco; she had for years now. But was that just a scapegoat anymore? Was she using that as an excuse? Was it some dream for her life that had been ingrained for so long that she could see no other options? That she couldn't see the prospect of letting _Draco_ go, rather than making him let go of Harry? She didn't delude herself so much as not to realise that Draco cared for the other man very deeply, and more than she did. Because as much as she watched Harry, and fell for him in her own way, she wasn't nearly as close to him as Draco was. Oh sure, she had read every word that had passed over their lips while talking together, but what was that more than spying? Like she had always done? Looking in on secrets that only Draco should know, and yet, here he was, giving them to her in plain ink.

It was crazy. And wrong. So wrong.

As was this entire situation. From the beginning.

Morgan, what had she been _thinking_?

Nothing other than satisfying her own self-indulgent and Machiavellian tendencies.

So. What now? Give up Draco? Give up her love, the life she'd always wanted? Give up ever knowing his body, wrapped around hers and inside hers and knowing the prefect completion of being with the one you love in all ways possible on this plane of existence? Because that was looking to be a very _real_ (and very scary) possibility.

"Goddess, I hate who I've become…" she whispered to herself, resting her head on her arms. But she couldn't stop being who she was, that was the crux of the matter. She was beyond thinking that she could change herself, and mostly, she didn't _want_ to change herself. Yet she hated herself at the same time.

She was bringing up more questions than answers, as seemed to always be the case in situations like this.

Rather than feeling frustrated at Draco's swaying opinions on the situation (only last week talking about how to 'break' Harry into having sex with Draco, and now completely rebutting that statement by telling Harry to go be with someone else, if even for a short while), she only felt tired. Very weary and tired. And she hadn't a clue as to what to do. And her dreams weren't helping. She still didn't know for sure what they meant, or exactly whom they were about.

It didn't seem as though she and Draco were sorted out enough to get back together, but at the same time, all she wanted was to give herself to him; completely and fully. Even with the knowledge that she would probably have to walk away. A part of her cried out and her throat started to close off. But she didn't _want _to.

A part of her trilled in anticipation of finally being with Draco, and Harry as well. She had never been beyond sating her physical pleasures, but with that now came so many other things she wasn't sure she could face. She was damned either way.

Gods, she was _pathetic. _That last word sounded particularly like it was in Draco's voice. She wouldn't be surprised if she turned around, and he was standing right there, looking down at her with a mixture of disdain and pity. As it was, when she cast a glance back, he wasn't there.

Hardening her heart for what she knew was to come was the most difficult thing she ever had to do, but she steeled herself and did it anyway. Standing, she looked out over the vast courtyard of her home for the last two or so years, watching as wizards and witches came and went, most heading home after a long day of study and practical teachings. Taking a deep breath, she turned left and headed home herself, mentally preparing herself for the rest of the evening, knowing it would be the hardest thing she'd ever have to do.

* * *

_A/N: So...what does Raven have up her sleeve now? How will Draco deal with the consequences of his choices? How will Harry and Mikhail deal with the relationship being out in the open? Just what will Rita do now? I wanna know what you guys think, and we'll see how close some of you come. I'm evil. I know. To all of those that I didn't repond directly to with the new review reply thing (neato, huh?) thank you for reviewing. I appreciate it! If I don't update before, all of you have a Happy Holiday!_


	19. Scandal

**_Chapter Notes:_**_ You'd think, with three weeks off of school, that one would have the time to write sloughs of chapters. But such is the life of a college student with a minimum wage job, especially one that is the busiest during the holiday season. So, right now, I'm just grateful I got this chapter out. _:) _And I'm already working on Chapter Nineteen (I really need to get farther ahead, here...), so hopefully, I can get that out shortly too. School is starting again on Monday, so we'll see how much time I'll have. It's getting into the home stretch before graduation now, and I really need to concentrate on my portfolio._

_I hope you guys like this chapter, even though it is short. There's more fun to come, however!_

**WARNING: **_**The first scene has a bit of heterosexual activity. Nothing graphic, or even extensive. I just know some of you guys are (oddly) against that sort of thing, but this first scene is rather important, and I ask you to please not skip it. Thank you. Oh, and don't bitch me out about it later. I'm not listening.** **If you've read my other author's notes on this subject, you know I'll only laugh at you.**  
_

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Chapter XVIII – Scandal

* * *

**

He had been dreaming; about what, he couldn't remember, but suddenly it didn't matter any more. He hummed in his sleep before gasping softly at a sharp spike of pleasure that jolted down his still lethargic body. Opening his eyes blearily, he looked down to see a dark fall of hair pooling on his stomach, and that sweet pleasure spiked again.

"R-Raven?" asked Draco throatily.

She hummed around his cock before slowly pulling away and sliding up his body. "I thought you might like to woken up like that," said she, before kissing him.

By now, Draco realised that this was no dream and even as he responded feverously to Raven's mouth, he knew that this circumstance wasn't right. Well, not _wrong_ exactly, but wasn't he supposed to be mad at her?

When she pulled away, her eyes were alight with pure love and desire, and her lips were darkened and parted in a smirk.

"Raven? Wha-what's going on?" His cock was starting to throb madly between his thighs and the weight and heat of Raven straddled directly on top of it was not helping matters. Or his rather muddled brain from processing anything at all. But her next words were enough to wake him up a bit more.

"I was stupid to make us wait. Make love to me."

Draco blinked. "Are-are you serious?"

Raven nodded sincerely. "I love you, Draco. I _want_ to make love to you. I have for years now, but I didn't want to push you. I didn't want to make a move because I was afraid that the teasing was just that, teasing. And…I didn't want to be hurt."

He stared up at her for a while, before shaking his head and pushing at her shoulders. "What? No, I can't."

"Why not? You love me, and I love you. I've told you how I was in the past. I pursued whom I wanted, and I got them. But I couldn't do that to you. And I can't tell you how sorry I am to have started all of this. If I knew…" she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We'll set it right, Draco. We'll set it right. And Harry will have his choice."

Draco looked worriedly into her eyes. Brushing his thumb on her left cheek he whispered, "I love him."

"I know. If I have anything to say about it, he'll never doubt it."

Draco kissed her then, feeling relief and trepidation at the same time. He never realised how much he missed Harry or Raven until they were hardly speaking to him, and even though he was rather upset with Raven for her attitude that evening, he missed this too. This intimacy. Once you had something like this, it was so hard to let go of it. But it didn't feel right. To sleep with Raven. But oh god, he wanted to. _Was there really anything holding them back?_ Draco thought as he pulled her completely on top of him and felt her smooth and very naked skin against his.

The heat was driving him mad, and as he kicked his boxers off his ankles, he rolled them over and moved down to nip at Raven's collarbone. He was _so close_ to just slipping inside of her, but he wouldn't. Not yet. She murmured her assent to the sensation of him on top of her and rubbing against her and kissing her, only to make a needy sound when Draco pulled away.

"I love you, Raven. And I know I always will. And I know I'm contradicting myself here, considering I kept pressing you about it just a few weeks ago, but I think…I want to wait."

Green eyes blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I said, I want to wait."

"Wait…? Alright…" Draco could tell immediately that she wasn't just supremely confused, but rather hurt as well. She looked off to the side and worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

"It's not you, Raven. Honestly. I just…I want this. I really do. But it feels weird. Without…without Harry. I guess I just got used to the idea that we'd all three be together or something. Or that…you and me would have to wait until Harry and I…"

"But you have been with Harry, Drake. Just six days ago."

"I know. But I…fuck, I don't know. Can't we just wait? Please?" He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. "I want it. I do. So much." His voice was muffled by her hair and skin. "But if you and me…if we…it'd be like we don't need Harry anymore, and he'd stay with Chaikovsky. And I don't want that. We need him. _I_ need him. You were right. I was stupid to say that to him. He'd date that bastard just to try and prove to me that he could, to make me jealous. And I am. I'm so jealous."

Raven's eyes closed, and she breathed deeply, wrapping her arms more securely around the tense blond. She was trying to fight back tears, and it took all she had to do so. This wasn't turning out right. It wasn't going to plan.

Okay, fine. She'd just have to alter the plan. It'd take a little longer, but she could do it. She'd have to.

"It's okay, love. It's okay to be jealous. I was jealous of Pansy for a while, do you remember? Well, I suppose you don't, because you didn't know how I felt back then, but I was."

"Yeah…you told me about it."

"It'll all work out, I promise. I'll talk to him or something. We can wait."

"Are you sure?"

The newly improved plan was already forming in the girl's mind. "Yes. I'm sure."

Draco kissed her neck. "But I suppose that doesn't mean we can't do other things," he murmured suggestively before trailing kisses down her body.

"No," she smirked deviously. "It doesn't."

Oh, she had a plan, and of course, she'd have to let Draco in on parts of it, to get it to work out properly…

…Or not.

* * *

**_A TRIANGLE AT IT'S BEST (OR WORST?)_**

_With rumours flying about the Boy-Who-Lived's sexuality, it's no wonder that there are questions about how this came about and if this isn't just another ploy to regain the limelight after so many years absence, _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._ The boy has been tight-lipped, and information has been scarce__—until now._

_The Man-Potter has been seen with several men as of late, state many of the hero's schoolmates. His current beau is the British Institute's Quidditch Captain and Chaser, Mr. Mikhail Chaikovsky, and one must wonder just how far Mr. Potter will go to stay on top. Figuratively, of course._

_But what has brought about this sudden coming out of the broom cupboard? Is Harry Potter just exploring his sexuality, as no one has seen him with any women before? Or is Mr. Chaikovsky one of many male lovers for our young hero? Rumours lead this reporter to believe the latter._

_Mr. Potter has indeed not been seen in the company of the gentler gender in quite a few years, save for one Hermione Granger (an ex-girlfriend now betrothed to Potter's best friend Rupert Weasley) and Luna "Loony" Lovegood (heiress of the eclectic _Quibbler_ magazine). Perhaps Ms. Granger__'s move of affections to Mr. Potter's best friend led the young man to turn to the other side of the Quidditch Pitch?_

_Sources have led this reporter to believe that Mr. Potter has been spending an inordinate amount of time with Mr. Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater and Mr. Potter's Hogwarts school rival. Upon questioning Mr. Malfoy, it was found that he and Mr. Potter have strangely grown quite close, and that perhaps Mr. Potter's coming out is the result of a secret love spurned and new, open love claimed._

_Whilst talking with Mr. Malfoy, while he didn't say exclusively, this reporter gleaned from the enigmatic blond that he is still in love with Mr. Potter, and that Mr. Potter's switch to Mr. Chaikovsky broke his heart._

_This reporter cannot be sure what lies ahead for the love lives of these young men, but we can only hope that Mr. Potter figures out his heart before he breaks any more.

* * *

_

"That-that-that _utter slag_!" Harry exclaimed, slamming the newspaper down on the table next to his toast and standing up. His eyes were dark, and his face was flushed and livid. The sconces on the wall rattled slightly and the table jumped after meeting Harry's latent power, which seemed to be on the prowl; seething and dark and ready to rip a certain reporter's heart out.

Ron stared up at his friend with worried wide eyes. Granted, he was just as livid as Harry, especially knowing the truth of the whole matter. Well, _hoping_ he knew the whole truth and that Harry wasn't keeping anything else from him. _Harry break Malfoy__'s heart? Try the other way around, you bitch._

Hermione glared at the paper as if it should burst into flames by the strength of her gaze. "I thought I shut that woman up!"

"Apparently the threat has worn off, Granger."

Everyone looked to see Malfoy standing just behind Hermione, _Daily Prophet_ in hand. He resembled himself from his Hogwarts Days so perfectly, Harry thought, that he wouldn't have believed that it was the Draco he knew from now if any one had told him so. The blonde's grey eyes flashed silver and promised darkness, and his face seemed more pointed than it ever had been. The snarl on his lips and the faint flush to his cheeks were the final signs that he was as livid as they all were.

Blaise stood just behind him, untold tortures hidden in the depths of his dark gaze.

Seamus peered around from the both of them, spitting out an apology. "Sorry, Harry, he insisted that he had to see you now-"

But Ron cut him off and sneered at Draco's words. "Malfoy, if you said _any_ of that rubbish about Harry-"

"Ron, don't." Harry chided as gently as he could over his anger. He couldn't look Draco in the eye, but he knew those steely irises were trained on him.

Malfoy's lip curled slightly. "I take it you don't have a plan yet."

"A plan?" Ron asked.

"To deal with Skeeter," Draco said impatiently.

"We haven't had a chance to discuss it yet," Hermione cut in.

Draco spared her a half a glance before moving around the table to look Harry directly in the eye so that Harry had no choice to turn and face him. In a low voice, Draco leaned forward and said, "I told her not to fuck with me. Use your resources, Potter. And I'll use mine."

"My resources?" Harry questioned quietly, his dark eyes searching Draco's.

"_Chaikovsky_, Potter. _Mr._ Chaikovsky."

Harry's lips parted and he took a quick breath. Draco was emitting a sort of commanding force, and it was pressing upon Harry's own anger. "Mikhail's father," he breathed.

"If you won't talk to him, I will. She shouldn't have fucked with me. Or you. She either can't hear properly, or she doesn't care that her life will now be over as she knows it." It was said with such quiet ferocity that Harry's breath picked up and his eyes involuntarily scanned Draco's face and body. He found his body reacting to it without his permission, and hoped to all that was just that no one noticed. Too bad he didn't have robes on right then, instead of only the thin pyjama bottoms he was wearing.

Clearing his throat he said, "Right. I'll go talk to Mikhail right now."

Draco said, "If he's a smart boy, Chaikovsky will have already talked to his father. What you need to tell them is that Skeeter's unregistered."

Hermione grabbed the paper from across the table and glared at it again, almost sneering herself at the candid picture of Harry and Mikhail standing outside the _Medi-Arts_ building, next to one of Draco walking by himself to class, looking rather morose, and playing directly into Skeeter's words. "Apparently, she's forgotten we know that. And of course she just _had_ to have this shit printed before Luna's article came out."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Hermione!"

But the girl waved him off. "Oh shut it, Harry. Am I too proper to be allowed to use profanity when the situation calls for it? Besides, working on getting Skeeter in prison is our first priority, not my speaking habits."

Just then, Mikhail came bustling in, his hair dishevelled and his cheeks splotched with red. "The door was unlocked," he muttered to the crowd in the dining room before his eyes finally landed on Harry. "Harry!" He brushed past Draco, nearly knocking him over, and went straight to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him. He earned a well-placed glare from Blaise and Draco each as Blaise helped Draco regain his footing.

"Don't worry, Harry. I've already talked to my father; he's getting it taken care of _right now_. He woke me up with a fire-call."

"Mikhail, there's something we've got to tell you. Rita Skeeter's an unregistered Animagus. A beetle."

"With marks around the eyes like spectacles," Hermione put in.

Mikhail stared into Harry's eyes for a moment before kissing him soundly on the mouth and saying, "Brilliant! I'll go tell Father now!" And just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone again, Blaise and Draco jumping out of the way in the nick of time.

"Rude, those Russians, aren't they?" Draco muttered, ignoring the glare from Harry.

"When will Lovegood's article be printed?" Blaise asked.

"Not until Monday. And it's only Friday now," Hermione answered, frowning. "We should have asked her to print a special issue or something this week, instead of waiting. Dammit! We should have seen this coming."

"There's nothing to be done for it now," Harry said resignedly, only a bit of relief at Mikhail's announcement blossoming in his chest. He sat down and pushed away his cold and soggy toast. He felt like he'd never be hungry again.

"Don't worry, Harry," said Ron in a rather uncharacteristic show of optimism. "Mikhail's dad's sure to get it sorted out."

Everyone ignored the soft snort from Draco. Except Harry.

"Well, Draco? You said you had resources, what are they?"

Draco crossed his arms and smirked in that old style of his. Harry wasn't sure if it was becoming on the blond any more or not, if it ever was. "I have connections as well. And money."

Harry frowned. "Money…? But I thought you-"

"Were being audited? Yes, I was. I just got a letter from my family's lawyers this morning. I'm in the clear."

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Did they take anything else?"

Draco hid a smile at Harry's apparent concern. "Yeah, they seized all of our foreign lands to sell in auction, along with any possessions on the land." Draco shrugged. "It will take a while to build up the Malfoy name and prestige, but I still have the Manor in Wiltshire, and I'll probably be spending most of the Winter Hols going through everything there."

"By yourself?" Harry asked.

"Raven will probably come with, if I ask her."

"Oh? Did you two make up finally?" asked Hermione.

"Only just."

"Well, as wonderful as this impromptu breakfast gathering has been," Blaise drawled, "I need to go get ready for class. Coming, Drake?"

"In a minute. " Malfoy turned back to Harry. "Can I speak with you?"

"You're speaking to him now," Ron said, still unforgiving of Draco's behaviour towards his best friend in the past week.

"Ron, shush," Hermione chided, standing up and taking her _Daily Prophet_ and the boy's unfinished breakfasts with her. "Let's give them a moment."

Ron begrudgingly got up, casting a wary glare in Draco's direction, following Hermione, Seamus and Blaise out of the dining area.

Harry looked expectantly up at Draco. "Yes?"

Draco looked into the kitchen to make sure everyone was out of earshot before taking a chair and sitting down directly in front of Harry. He leaned in close, leaning his elbows on his knees, and took a moment to gather what courage he could muster. Licking his lips he said quietly, "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back in his chair. "For?"

Draco grimaced. "For everything. For being an utter prat, for hurting you, for…for everything."

Harry sighed, unfolding his arms. "Do you regret it?" he asked just as quietly as Draco whispered his apology.

Draco's eyes snapped to the green ones in front of him. "_No._ I never did. I just regret…what happened after. I _wanted_ what happened, Harry. I still do. But it just wasn't fair to you—it never was."

Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms again. "And I _told_ you that it was _my_ choice to make. You told me the more than likely outcome, but pulled my choice away from me before I had a chance to make it."

"But that's just it, Harry. I really wasn't giving you a choice by allowing us to be together. That was…it was more like…I was trying to sway you, instead of telling you what Raven and I wanted, and then letting you make the decision, before something happened."

"I don't see it that way, Draco. You told me the consequences, I told you I would think about it, and _I_ still made a move on _you_. I told you not to stop. I didn't care. I'd deal with that part later, if I decided I didn't want it. How would I know what I really wanted, if I hadn't the slightest idea what I might get into or pass up?" Harry frowned and looked away. "And now I'm dating Mikhail. We're going out tomorrow. Hopefully," he finished, thinking of all the media and nosy people in the area.

Draco clenched his jaw. _Merlin, _that _hurt_. But he couldn't be angry with Harry for saying it. He wasn't flaunting it, like Draco would have most likely done if it were him. He was just stating the current outcome of this whole mess.

"I hope that goes well for you," he managed after a moment.

Harry smirked knowingly. "No you don't."

Draco had to chuckle, but it was a little dry. "Okay, I suppose not." He sobered. "I just want you to be happy."

"I want me to be happy too. And you. And Raven."

He knew he'd probably not like the answer, but Draco had to ask. "Are you happy with him? With Chaikovsky?"

A half-smile formed on Harry's lips, and his eyes turned slightly far away. "So far. We'll see. I'd like to see what will happen. He's a good guy." Draco made some sort of non-committal noise in the back of his throat. "So, you and Raven are back together?"

"Like I said, only just. We…" Draco was unsure of his next words, despite any previous claims of never being unsure about anything. He ploughed ahead anyway with, "We miss you." He dared to look up to Harry's face. The darker man bit his lip and gazed sadly back.

"I miss you guys too."

Draco's heart involuntarily leaped, and regardless of his best efforts, he knew a blush was creeping across his cheeks, and a smile was twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Raven would still like to take some pictures of us. If you're still interested." _Oh, that was a wonderful change of subject, Malfoy. Let__'s bring it back to the activity that brought this all about._

Harry shrugged. "I don't mind. But I should probably ask Mikhail. He might not like his boyfriend posing nude with some other guy, in spite of the evidence to that man's _obvious_ heterosexuality." Green eyes shined with amusement.

Draco raised an eyebrow. He was about to come back with something profoundly witty, but Blaise poked his head in.

"Okay you two, it's been over a half-hour. I'm going to be late for class if I don't leave now."

"Go, Blaise. I don't have anything until this afternoon."

"You're telling me this _now_? After I waited nearly an hour for you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise, you should know my schedule by now. But stop wasting time, if it's so precious to you. Go."

Zabini made a rather undignified growling noise. "Fuckin' blond, homosexual bimbos…" he muttered as he walked away.

"I heard that Blaise! And don't think I won't get you back for it, either!"

Harry chuckled, and couldn't help but burst out in laughter upon Draco's glare. "Yep. _Obviously_ heterosexual."

"Fuck you, Potter," Draco muttered, standing. "I should be going, though. Thank you for listening to me."

Harry stood next to him, not quite hesitantly putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Apology accepted, even if I think that your reasoning was and is stupid."

The blond rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow in mild exasperation. "Have a good day, Harry. I'll see you later."

"You too, Draco. Say hello to Raven for me."

"I will. As soon as I get her to calm down."

"Calm down?"

Draco, who had been just about to leave the dining area, looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Oh, she's likely to be right pissed off at Skeeter's lack of mention of her in that blasted article."

He and Harry shared a look that said, 'Yeah, Raven would be pissed about something like that.'

And indeed she was.

* * *

"That _unbelievable_ cow!" 

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Not only does she write _ludicrous_ things about Harry, but she fails to even _mention_ my existence!" Raven slapped the paper down much like Harry had done earlier that day, sitting back with her arms folded. "You _are_ going to take care of her, right?"

"I have resources at my disposal, if need be." The blond reclined and laced his fingers behind his head. "Besides, Harry's 'Golden Boy'," Draco managed to say condescendingly and roll his eyes at he same time, "is handling it, thanks to dear, old daddy."

"Wait, you're letting _Chaikovsky__'s father_ handle it?"

"_No_, I am _not_ letting Chaikovsky's father handle it. I'm assisting him. Monetarily. My lawyers are also involved. I sent him an owl early this morning. Hopefully, we won't need any of my other resources."

"Does Harry know? About you giving his boyfriend's father money?"

A scoff. "Of course not."

Raven shook her head. "Draco, you are an idiot."

The blond frowned. "I thought we already established that fact, back when I told Harry to date Chaikovsky."

Black tendrils trailed over a shoulder as the young woman shook her head again. "Draco, you _do_ realise that you've just set up yourself for more disaster, right?"

He dropped his arms. "How?"

"By letting Harry think Chaikovsky and his father are handling it, you've only _confirmed_ Chaikovsky's 'Golden Boy' status, as you so put it, in Harry's eyes. You're making Chaikovsky look like the hero. How do you expect Harry to come back to you if Chaikovsky looks better than you? If Harry finds him attentive and loving and all he's ever dreamed of?"

After a moment, Draco blinked. "Dammit."

Raven looked smug. "What are you going to do about it?"

Draco's mind raced for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "Skeeter wasn't counting on my estates being re-instated. She doesn't think that I might still have friends in high places—because of my father's death, my turning traitor, and my family's name still tarnished after the war. But there's still a few… Daphne's father, Horwilde Greengrass for instance, was never a Death Eater, but he assisted my father numerous times in covering his tracks from the Ministry's prying eyes. I haven't spoken to him in years, but surely, Daphne and I can get him to help diverge the press…keep them busy elsewhere without causing too much trouble. And Mr. Chaikovsky is smart—I've heard of him before now—he'll take Skeeter for all she's worth. But if the courts won't deal with her, I will. Personally."

"But that doesn't guarantee you're known involvement in bringing her down, Drake. You're saying that only if the courts deal with her, will you step in. So what if Mr. Chaikovsky does what you're paying him to do? What then?"

"Well? Do you have any ideas, then? I just want Skeeter taken care of. She'll be stripped of her magic and living like a Muggle in the Sahara Desert when I'm through with her. The last thing she'll be thinking about is spreading lies about anyone."

Raven arched and eyebrow. "Lies? Why I might agree that most of what she wrote was slander, you _do_ love Harry, and he_ did_ break your heart. Well, you broke his heart too, love."

Draco glowered. "I know you know that that is _beyond _the point. She shall be torn asunder by my wrath and justice."

Raven couldn't help but lean forward a pat him on the arm. "You're becoming melodramatic, sweetie."

He scoffed in a derisive manner and said, "Me? Melodramatic? No, no, no, love. Malfoy's are not bred to ever become melodramatic. We're bred to hold poise and grace in all situations. And to be ruthless in exacting our justice."

"Or revenge. Which ever way you put it." Draco humphed in response. "For the sake of being off topic, I must say you seem quite comfortable living up to your family's reputation. Have things changed, or have I always missed something?"

Draco held her gaze for a moment before shrugging. "Both, I suppose. We've talked about this before, Raven. I'll always have some Malfoy ways ingrained in me, whether I like it or not-"

"It makes you who you are."

"-Precisely. Just like spying and scheming will always be a part of you." He studied her from behind his fringe. "Not scheming lately, are you?"

Raven raised that eyebrow again. "No," she lied. "Why?"

He shrugged. "No reason. But we've gotten off topic, haven't we?"

"Quite. Now, how shall we convince sweet Harry to drop 'Prince' Mikhail?"

"Has he mentioned anything to you? About Chaikovsky?"

"No."

"He told me this morning that he was really going to give him a shot, though he doesn't seem to have fallen for him or anything. It was as if he hadn't been thinking that before."

"He wasn't."

"What do you mean? Did you have something to do with it?"

Raven waved his question away with a hand. "He wanted to make you jealous. And I'm sure he still does. But his Gryffindor morality won't let him just use the guy."

"I'm sure." Draco bit the inside of his cheek. "So he'll give the guy 'a chance', and probably find out what a 'saint' he is, and he and I will become 'just friends'."

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

"Well, shit." Pause. "I told him this morning that I never regretted what we did, just my stupidity after, but he's still set on being with Chaikovsky."

"I could try talking to him… I _know_ he still likes you, Draco. What he's probably thinking right now is that you and I are together, and if he can find someone-"

"-Someone all _his_ own, then maybe he won't need to be with us, regardless of his feelings, and risk getting hurt when one of us calls it off. Yes, I know." Draco slouched and folded his arms. "Seems like the perfect solution, though, doesn't it?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Silence. "Maybe he needs to know you won't give up. Maybe he needs to know that you actually _love_ him. He doesn't know, does he?"

Draco averted his eyes for a second before muttering something that contained the word 'wait'.

"Sorry?"

"I said, I thought I should wait. For the right time." Draco felt his cheeks grow warm, and hoped he wasn't too pink; it was bad for his complexion and made him look like he had sunburn.

Raven managed to keep the soft look she wanted to give him off her face. She didn't think Draco would appreciate it. _That__'s sweet,_ she thought, though she smirked on the outside. _Well, that__'s probably part of the reason I love him. He's a ruthless, Narcissistic bastard that can be super-sweet and romantic when he wants to._

"Well? Go on. I know you have something to say about _that_," Draco said after he caught her smirk.

Smiling now, she shook her head and raised her hands in a complacent gesture. "No, not me." She dropped her hands at his derisive snort and looked at the _Daily Prophet_ on the table. "But I do have an idea."

"Oh? Go on then, have you. Took you long enough."

Raven shot him a glare. "Oi, you're the one with all the bright ideas most of the time. Did you use them all up at Hogwarts?" she taunted.

"Hush up," he replied petulantly. "I've got plenty of ideas left."

"Uh-huh." Leaning forward she finished, "My idea is this: write an article."

"What?"

"Write. An. Article. For the _Prophet._ Dispel the rumours, while still hiding the truth. Because you know that Lovegood's article isn't going to cover _you._ Or at least it shouldn't. I'm more than positive that Chaikovsky doesn't know about you and Harry."

"No, I don't think he does." He nodded. "Alright. As soon as I hear word about how this Skeeter situation is going, I'll pen it out. I'll get it in the _Evening Prophet_ if possible."

Raven smiled. "Brilliant."

Draco leaned forward and kissed her. "No, you are." Pulling away, he said as an afterthought, "By the way, Harry says 'hi'."

Raven rolled her eyes and smiled.

* * *

Stanislav Chaikovsky's first letter to Draco came a half-hour later, as Draco was ignoring the questioning glances of his classmates. The bird landed on his shoulder abruptly as he was crossing the courtyard to his afternoon class. His only warning was a short hooting cry before sharp talons dug into his shoulder and an extra weight bore down on him. 

_Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_Forgive me for not sending a reply owl sooner, I have been substantially busier with this new case, as I'm sure you can imagine._

_I thank you for the offer of donations for my efforts; however, I feel it is not my place to keep it. This is my own son's livelihood as well at stake here, and I do not care to be paid. However, if you would still like to offer the help of your own family law-wizards as you mentioned in your previous letter, I would be most obliged for the help._

_I have informed my son of your willingness to help; I am sure you will be hearing from him at some point today._

_We will take thorough care of this atrocious grievance that has fallen upon you, my son, and Harry Potter's person. I have included your demands to Ms. Skeeter's ever growing list of things to be accountable for, and will send an official owl filing suit against Ms. Skeeter to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the authorities at the Office of Special Talents Registration: Animagus Division as soon as you and your law-wizards approve the charges and demands for compensation. I have already sent word to Ms. Skeeter that we will be charging her with slander and personal grievances, and that she will be getting official papers later today. Please send a return owl as soon as possible. If you would like to give me the names of your personal law-wizards, I will contact them and work with them for your benefit immediately. I only wish to get this taken care of as soon as possible, and administer the justice Rita Skeeter deserves. _

_Sincerely Yours in Justice,_

_Stanislav __Chaikovsky_

_Wizard at Law_

Draco beckoned the owl down to his arm, and quickly made his way inside. Sitting down in his Potions Theory class, he coaxed the owl onto the table before pulling out a quill and parchment to write a reply.

_Mr. Chaikovsky,_

_If you are resolute in not accepting my donation, then that is within your right. I will not force you to accept it. However, I am pleased with your determination for our common cause. Please accept my eternal gratitude._

_The Malfoy law-wizards are Roy and Ira Oswold. They are located at 152 Diagon Alley, not far from your offices, I imagine. I have had a fire-call with them outlining my exact grievances and demands of Ms. Skeeter. Please keep me updated on your joint progress._

_I am on the reserve Quidditch team for the British Institute, and know your son fairly well. I look forward to discussing this with him. _

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Master of Malfoy Manor_

Reading it over once more, ignoring the white lie he told about looking forward to seeing his son (Stanislav didn't need to know why), he added a post-script before tying it to the owl's leg and guiding it to the window.

_P.S. I will be writing a short article for the _Evening Prophet_ making a statement against Skeeter and her outrageous claims. I will not mention her unregistered animagus status until a formal charge is filed against her._

Satisfied, he sent the owl off, with a few coins as payment, and sat back down again to start writing the article. Class be damned; he knew most of this stuff anyway, and besides, this was a thousand times more important.

* * *

"Malfoy!" 

"Chaikovsky."

Mikhail caught up with Draco, who had just left his afternoon class, finished article in hand.

"I'd like to talk to you about what's going on."

"Well, I have an owl to post right now, and Quidditch practice after that, as I'm sure you know."

"I…well, can't I tag along for a moment? We'll go to practice together."

Draco stopped and turned to look at the older man. He was pleased to note that he nearly matched him in height. "You didn't seem to care much about my involvement in this situation this morning. In fact, I don't think you noticed I was in the same room."

Mikhail blanched. "Sorry. I was just really worried about Harry. He doesn't need that kind of press."

"And you suppose I do?" Draco shot back, frowning, before swiftly whipping around and walking towards the _Spell-Weavers _building, where the owlery was situated. He could hear Mikhail catching up behind him.

"Of _course_ not. I just… Look, I know you're helping Father, and I thank you for that. I know Harry's your friend so I…"

They reached the staircase that led to the owlery, and began to ascend it. "So you what?" Draco snapped.

"I just want to know…why did Rita Skeeter write those things? You and Harry haven't…been together before, have you?"

Draco stopped abruptly in the winding staircase, causing the Quidditch Captain to nearly stumble so as not to run into him. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I mentioned we were friends when she asked about why I wouldn't give her information on Harry like I did before. She took that and made up her own story."

"Before? What did you say about Harry before?"

"It was our fourth year at Hogwarts. I hated Harry then." Draco felt resigned all of a sudden, and resumed his trek upstairs.

"Oh. So nothing's happened between you two?"

"Shouldn't you be asking Harry that question?"

"He said that he's never been with a guy before…"

A pang of hurt shot Draco in the chest as he roughly pushed open the door to the owl chamber. He avoided what droppings and regurgitated bones he could and made straight for an eagle owl perched low on the wall. Tying off the article, a letter requesting it's printing, and a satchel of coins for the service, he whispered, "To the _Prophet_'s editor office, Hermes. Like the wind." Turning back to Mikhail, he said, "Then you have your answer, don't you?"

"Yeah…" There was a moment of awkward silent gazing as Draco and Mikhail stood there, staring at each other. "Do you have anyone, Draco?"

The blond blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Do you have anyone? Are you dating anyone?"

"Why do you want to know?" Draco eyed him warily.

"Because… I could see why Harry might be attracted to you, if he were. You're very striking."

Flash panic spread throughout Draco and a million thoughts whirled around his head, the least of which was, 'is he _hitting_ on me?' He kept it off of his face, however, and only narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting that Harry would cheat on you? That I am gay?"

"What? No!" I just… I can see that you're…" the older man blushed and ruffled his hair. "That you're good-looking, like I said. I didn't mean to offend you."

Draco regarded him a moment before saying, "Let's get one thing straight, Chaikovsky. If you think you can hit on me, or hurt Harry, you are sorely mistaken. I will _not_ tolerate someone messing around with Harry's feelings."

"What! I'm not—I wasn't—I don't like you like that!" Mikhail rushed out, flustered.

Draco arched an eyebrow.

"Look, Malfoy, I _wasn__'t_ trying to hit on you, honest. I just wanted to… I don't know. Never mind. Just…thank you. For your help. I'll see you later." And then Mikhail left.

Draco snickered to himself before throwing open the door and calling out, "But the way Chaikovsky, I might like guys from time to time, but I currently have a girlfriend!" He heard Mikhail's footsteps pause and a muttered 'oh, sorry', before they resumed again, albeit at more of a rushed pace. Draco waited a moment before following.

* * *

"I think your boyfriend has a soft spot for blonds." 

Draco smirked when Harry jumped. The darker man relaxed without turning around, which Draco found endearing. He watched intently from the door while Harry's back muscles flexed when he pulled his Quidditch jumper over his head.

"What makes you say that?" asked Harry, sounding bemused.

"He told me I looked 'very striking'. 'Good-looking' as well."

Harry turned around and stared at Draco, who was leaning against the doorframe of Harry's bedroom in his Quidditch robes. "Well," he said finally, "you are."

Tossing his head back haughtily, Draco preened. "Oh, I know. It was just interesting to hear him say it." His companion shook his head in response.

As Harry pulled his Quidditch robe over his shoulders he asked, "What were you two talking about that he would say that?"

"He wondered if what Skeeter wrote was true."

Hands stilled their movement to work a clasp and green eyes regarded the blond seriously through thick, black fringe. "And what did you tell him?" Harry whispered.

Draco gazed steadily back. "That he should ask you that question. He told me you told him you'd never been with a guy before." Harry winced and resumed to work the clasp. "I didn't refute the claim," Draco finished.

When Harry turned to gather his pads and broom, Draco calmly and swiftly closed the distance between them to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He doesn't know, Harry. If you want to keep it that way, that's fine. It's not my business to tell him."

Looking at the back of Harry's neck, he couldn't help himself; he brushed one of his fingers across the skin. His mouth parted and his breath picked up when he felt Harry tremble in response.

"No, it's not. I don't want him to know. Not… Maybe later." Draco was intrigued to find that Harry's voice sounded slightly choked. He cleared his throat and finished, "I'll tell him when I'm ready."

Draco nodded. "That's your choice."

They stood there in a silent and slightly uncomfortable tableau: and Draco realised that this might be the time to tell him. To tell Harry that he loved him.

"Harry?"

The man turned, and Draco was confronted with those beautiful green eyes that were closer than they had been in days. And he couldn't do it. He didn't know why. He just couldn't.

"Never mind. Let's go to practice, eh?"

Harry nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Okay."

* * *

_**A/N:** So...yeah. I don't have much else to say, though I'm sure I'll think of things later. -smirk- Things will all work out, though, so no bothering me about that. _:) _You'll just have to wait like everyone else to see what happens. _

_Thank you to all who reviewed, especially to those who I didn't respond to personally--I truly value that you took the time to say something, and I'm just sorry I didn't have much else to say other than: Thanks!_

_It's really too bad I can't live off reviews, I'd probably never have to spend money on food. Can't wait to hear from you all again!  
_


	20. Ambivalent Nature

**_Chapter Notes: _**_Well, this got out faster than I thought, but a day later than I intended once I knew it would be coming out sooner. I'm already working on Chapter Twenty, but I've also taken another original story under my wing, and have NO IDEA what it'll become. It's also a BIRTHDAY present for my illustrious, beautiful, beta, **IcyAurora**, whom without which, I'd be lost in the sea of eternal suffering of all kinds. I love you, babe!_

_So, I hope you enjoy...there's lots more to come, I promise...I just can't promise when... :( __Sorry._

_Also, if you want a mental skematic of what Mikhail's flat looks like, visit my homepage, which is linked on my userpage. Thanks!_

_Now, on with the show!_

_

* * *

_**Chapter XIX – Ambivalent Nature

* * *

**

Draco was pleased to note that his conversation with Chaikovsky was still affecting the Chaser, and grinned and winked mischievously at him throughout practice. Harry rolled his eyes, between nudging at Draco to stop antagonising his boyfriend, and shooting Mikhail apologising looks.

After practice, Draco sauntered off with one more lascivious wink before disappearing into the forest. Harry shook his head, approached Mikhail and smiled. "I'm sorry about Draco. He's gotten it into his head that you like blonds."

Mikhail winced and dragged Harry to the storage shed. Once inside, he took Harry's hands into his own and said, "I don't care what colour they are, I like men. However, I don't like Draco. Not that way. I was just…feeling insecure because of that article, I guess. He told me that he likes blokes, but that he has a girlfriend. I don't know what to make of that."

Harry's smile grew and he threaded his gloved fingers through his boyfriend's. "I'm not worried," he replied. "Draco's just playing it up. Being Draco, I suppose. He's not easy to like anyway. And I think it's sweet, that you were worried."

Mikhail looked at Harry in the dim light. Looking for what, Harry wasn't sure. But he didn't have much time to think about it, as the next thing he was aware of was that he was being kissed. His eyes went wide in surprise for a moment before they closed and the kiss intensified. Moving closer, Harry tilted his head back, and Mikhail untwined one of his hands to card it through Harry's hair. Harry opened his mouth and Mikhail took a sharp breath and plunged right in.

Wrapping his other arm around Harry's waist, he lifted him up slightly and pinned him to the wall. Harry's head bumped against the thin wood, but it didn't bother him; he was so lost in the feeling of Mikhail's tongue in his mouth and his firm body pressed so hard against his, he couldn't think of much else. Mikhail's hand wound up on his ass, lifting him up higher, so that Harry's toes were barely brushing the ground. As it was, one of his legs was half-wrapped around Mikhail's waist, and his hands were around the older man's shoulders, hanging on and holding close. Things were so hot and sweat was beginning to build on their already sweaty skin, and when Mikhail moved his hot mouth to lick the salt from Harry's neck, it was like the passion-haze was lifting, after the shock of breathing cold, musty air. His eyes opened fractionally to look around him, and he suddenly felt confined; this was too like before, too like the small little room, with the musty smelling air and heat and bodies and…

"W-wait!"

Mikhail jumped from the stuttered sound and pulled away quickly, without letting go of Harry. Taking in the startled wide eyes and the harsh breathing, he realised quickly that he might have moved a bit too fast.

"Oh god. I'm sorry-I didn't-"

"No, no. It's fine. Just…too fast. I need to breathe."

"O-okay," Mikhail breathed, willing his passion to subside for the time being. He gently lowered Harry until his feet touched the floor again, and backed away, muttering an apology and averting his gaze, his hands up in front of him slightly as if to ward himself away.

Harry quickly caught his breath and grabbed a hold of one of those hands. "Mikhail." The man's eyes closed and his jaw clenched as if mad. "_Mikhail_. It's okay. Don't be mad at yourself. I know…I know that I told you that it was too fast, and it is, in a way. But I'm not naïve. I want this as much as you, I'm just…unsure of myself, I guess." Now Harry averted his gaze, and cursed himself for telling half-truths to his _boyfriend_. "I just don't know anything about relationships like this, let alone with a guy. I mean, what's too fast? What's normal? I don't know. And, well…I just didn't want to lose my virginity in a broom shed, you know?" he joked under his breath.

He heard Mikhail chuckle right before he was embraced. "I'm still sorry. I just…get carried away, sometimes. I'm glad you stopped me, because I was probably about two seconds from taking it a bit further, and I want…well, if I'm your first, I want it to be good. Like it should be."

"Well, it's good I have a soppy, romantic boyfriend then, huh?"

Mikhail smirked. "Yeah." He kissed Harry's hair and said, "You ready to go out tonight? Show all those people we don't care what they think about us?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Just let me get home and shower."

"Okay. Meet me at Cel's then? Or shall I pick you up?"

Harry leaned back and smiled. "How about the courtyard, in an hour?"

"Sounds perfect. Dress warm, I feel a frost coming on."

* * *

Harry realised that he was rather nervous, walking with Mikhail to his flat in the modest apartment building—the only one in Rookwood. Most of the students from the small university lived there, and it was almost like its own community of friends and co-workers and classmates. Mikhail was lucky enough to have a corner room on the top floor (it was only five stories), so he didn't get a lot of disturbances from his neighbours. 

They had spent the evening at Celestine's, a busy Friday with not only the usual fare and company, but also the small collection of rather nosy and rude patrons looking in their direction, and none too discreetly.

Finally, after enduring the staring of a table of five older wizards nearby, Mikhail broke and snapped, "What? Don't you have something more important to pay attention to?"

The one sitting closest to their table was grizzled, with old teeth and deep lines in his face. He growled, "We don't like fags."

"Then it's best you don't smoke them, eh? Bad for your health."

Harry dearly wanted to snicker at Mikhail's cheek, but dared not to. In fact, he was wondering why they didn't just leave, or cast a notice-me-not spell. Or better yet, use his 'fame' to get them to bugger off. Perhaps he just wanted someone to take care of _him_ for a change, rather than him having to use his latent abilities to get people to stop noticing him.

The old man spat at Mikhail's feet and sneered. "You're a cheeky one, ain't ya? Well, I'm tellin' ya, _we don__'t like fudge-packers. Fags. Gays._"

Mikhail glared and leaned forward menacingly. "I don't give _fuck_ what you like or don't like. Public domain, old man. If I want to take my boyfriend out, I can. If you don't like watching it, leave."

"Why you-"

"What is going on here?"

The old men all looked up to see Celestine standing behind their table, looking archly down at each of them. "Trying to start something in my place, Archie?"

Archie sat back and said, "No. Just lettin' this young bloke know that we don't take kindly to people like _them._" He jerked his thumb back at Mikhail and Harry.

"Well, Archie, I'll have you know that these are special friends of mine, and I don't care who they like, they are welcome here. If you don't like that, you can leave. Or, you can stay and be civilised. As long as you don't start anything, you're welcome. Otherwise, leave these boys alone."

Archie looked like he'd rather do anything but stay, but there wasn't anywhere else in town to get a pint on a Friday night. "Alrigh', alrigh'. I won't start nothin'."

"And I best not hear any of you gave them any trouble on the way home."

The old men all acquiesced, and Cel left them alone, coming over to whisper a word to Mikhail and Harry.

"Don't let those arses bother you. There will always be someone hating someone, for something or another, be it blood, love, or skin. I don't swing that way myself, but I like you guys, and that's more important than who you're fuckin'. You like who you like. I wish you two happiness."

"Thank you, Celestine," Harry said.

"Yes, thank you," Mikhail echoed.

"It's no problem. I look after my mates. Drinks for you tonight on the house, to make up for the riff raff."

The two young men had actually left shortly afterwards, with a sharp and rather demonstrative warning for anyone who wished the follow them. But they already knew that come morning, the headlines would read all kinds of salacious activities between the two of them. Someone was bound to go to the press to get their fifteen seconds of fame. There was nothing for it, really, and Harry almost pondered the idea of making those possible headlines come true, until he thought of the semi-disgusted look on Draco's face just before he left practice on Wednesday. It made him wonder why he agreed to spend the rest of the night at Mikhail's, but it was as good a place as any other to spend some time alone. Better, perhaps, because Mikhail didn't have any roommates.

And horribly scary, for the very same reason.

They walked up the beaten dirt path, while Mikhail took out his wand to unlock the front door. They slipped inside and took the immediate flight of stairs up. While they were both rather athletic, Harry still got a bit winded, using muscles he hadn't really used since his Hogwarts days of roaming a vast castle full of stairs and no lifts. Mikhail chuckled at Harry's loss of breath, but led him down the hall and to a door with "514" in brass mounted upon the wood. Another unlocking charm, special to the door and combined with a specific brass key, opened the flat to them, and the older man gestured Harry inside, spelling the candles and gas lamps on.

Harry looked around the flat, and noted immediately that it seemed to be a studio. A very _large_ studio, but a studio none the less. It was all hardwood, with a few sparse rugs, and a very comfortable-looking couch and armchair set, which were covered in a soft-looking deep chocolate material. A small hearth was set in the left-hand corner, right next to the modest kitchen area, which ran right up to the entryway. The entryway ran a little long on the right, extending out into the main room a bit. There was a door in this wall, which probably held a nice closet. In the opposite corner, there was a raised area, atop which stood a rather large bed, swathed in navy blue and cream. There were two doors off to the right; Harry assumed they went to the bathroom and another closet. Bookshelves lined the far wall between two large windows. The room seemed much too big for fourteen or more of them to be crammed on each floor of the little building, but Harry figured that it must be done up with space-enlarging charms, which were probably set to a certain size and no more, so as not to over-work the space continuum of the building. Even the stretches of matter had its limits.

It was modest, lived-in and bachelor feeling, however, it wasn't as messy as their dorm was most often. Harry wondered if Mikhail was just really neat, or if the taller man was expecting Harry's company. He emboldened himself and asked.

Mikhail chuckled, kicking off his shoes. "No, I'm generally neat. I haven't much else to do, other than Quidditch, classes, and homework. Though I did tidy up a bit for you."

This made Harry blush in that aggravating way again, but he decided to ignore it and toed off his own trainers. Mikhail took his denim jacket from him, and opened the closet door (Harry noted he was right), taking off his own jacket, and hanging them up.

"Thirsty? Hungry? I could fix something up quick. I know we didn't get much at the café."

Harry shrugged. "I'm a little thirsty…food can wait."

Mikhail walked into the kitchen area. "I can set something to cook itself. Or, I've got some leftover soup in the icebox I can reheat. Butterbeer okay with you? I don't really keep anything stronger at home."

"Yeah, butterbeer's fine. And soup's fine too. What kind?" Harry asked, as he ventured into the living area and looked at some of the pictures mounted on the wall and mantle.

"Chicken vegetable." Mikhail could be heard clanking pots and pans around.

As Harry was browsing over pictures of witches and wizards he didn't know, except for a few shots of Mikhail with those people, the man in question came up behind him, offering him a cold butterbeer. "Who are all these people?"

"Friends from school. My parents. This one here's of me and my best mate Jason. He's a Welsh bloke, and is living there now with his wife and three kids."

"Wow. What house were you in, by the way? I don't remember you from Hogwarts…I can't tell what house you were in by this picture."

"I was a Ravenclaw. I wasn't really involved in Quidditch my last few years. My father told me not to bother if I was to become a law-wizard like him. I graduated…a few years after you started there. '93, I think."

"That makes you…twenty-eight?"

Mikhail nodded. "Just turned in August. I'd better go check on the soup."

While the Chaser tended to their dinner, Harry approached the closest window. It looked out over the village, a random smattering of warm lights from below. Over the orange and red treetops, Harry could just make out a ring of golden light from campus. The stars were out and twinkling merrily and Harry could almost hear the crashing of the waves against the shore just past the school.

He was so enthralled with the view beyond the window, he wasn't paying attention to the inside reflection. So when he felt warm arms encircle his body from behind, and felt warmth against his neck as his boyfriend kissed him there, it startled him.

"I could just eat you up," Mikhail whispered huskily into his ear. The sensation made Harry shiver and his groin leap to attention.

Turning around in the embrace, he smirked, saying, "Why don't you, then?"

Mikhail raised an eyebrow before taking hold of Harry's butterbeer and setting it on the windowsill behind them. Keeping his dark eyes focused on Harry's, he slipped his hands beneath Harry's jumper and caressed the firm skin there, running his fingertips over nicely defined ribs and flat planes of muscle. Harry raised his arms up and leaned in to kiss the taller man, who took no time in ravishing Harry's mouth. They broke apart and Mikhail tugged Harry's jumper off of him, knocking his glasses askew. Harry righted them before asking breathlessly, "What about the soup?"

"I put it on low," came the similarly breathless reply.

Taking a hold of Harry's belt loops, Mikhail steered them across the flat to the raised bedroom, kissing Harry's neck and face, humming with pleasure while Harry caressed his hair, trying to keep an eye out to where they were headed.

"Too fast?" One murmured into fair skin.

"No," was the panting reply.

Once they stepped up to the bed, Mikhail released Harry and started to divest himself of clothing. Harry got the cue and removed his glasses, tossing them on the nightstand, and then nervously stripped down himself. He barely had time to register how good what he could see of Mikhail looked, or just what they might be heading to before Mikhail's lips were upon his, and he could feel his warm and broad chest against his, his stomach against his, his thighs against his, his _erection_ against his, and Harry flew into delirium and knew not much else than the feel of their skin upon each others.

It was like Mikhail's hands were everywhere, and while Harry could feel the other man cupping his arse, he could feel his own hands through wild, spiky hair, soft and thick, to heated skin and flexing muscles and then Mikhail's sweet lips on his, their tongues curling around each others and sucking and teasing and pushing-

-and then Harry was on his back on the bed, and while the homey smell of chicken soup wafted to his nostrils, he was also overwhelmed with the aftertaste of Mikhail in his mouth, and the smell of him, and the sensation of that thickly wild hair tickling his chin as Mikhail moved down his body, teasing Harry's nipples and caressing his sides. Harry almost giggled at the soft touches, but then his most sensitive area was greeted with warm breath and a slick tongue, and the giggle turned to a gurgle in his throat.

Catching his breath, Harry gasped as Mikhail took a gentle hold and licked his penis, swirling his tongue around and kissing the sides. It was a sensation that Harry had never felt before, and he was suddenly amazed that he made Draco feel _this_ good and better without any idea as to how it actually _felt._ He could feel Mikhail nuzzle his groin and breathe him in, right before he muttered, "You smell wonderful and you taste even better." It was like Mikhail knew what effect those words would have on him as he felt himself hardening even more; it was going to start becoming painful soon if something didn't give-

Upon the immense heat that suddenly engulfed his prick he eyes flew open when he didn't even realise he closed them and his back arched off of the bed. _Oh…Merlin…_

"God!" he gasped out loud, and it never occurred to him the oddity of thinking a curse of the most powerful wizard in history, and verbally cursing an entity mostly only Muggles believed in. It was just…_so_ hot, and _so_ intense, and Harry had no idea how long it took, but the rushing tingle building up in his groin and abdomen exploded in a white-hot pleasure, and the feel of Mikhail swallowing it all down and licking the vestiges away was distant in his mind yet severely jarring upon his sensitive flesh. He moaned low in the back of his throat; a low-pitched keening noise that came from somewhere feral inside of him.

As Harry was still catching his breath, Mikhail was sliding up his sweat-glistened body, his weight heavy but comfortable. He nestled their groins together, slowly lowering his body atop Harry's; kissing his neck and cheeks. Gradually, Harry came to feel Mikhail's kisses, and wrapped his arms around the man's middle, splaying out his hands on his back, shifting slightly and registering Mikhail's still hard length, which only urged his slowly into action.

Mikhail raised himself up from Harry's neck and smiled. "I know we said we'd go slow…"

Harry chuckled. "Does it sound like I'm complaining?"

The Captain's grin grew wider. "No, I suppose not."

Harry shifted again, experimentally, and Mikhail took that as a cue to move as well, and started rubbing their erections against each other. Harry moaned, arching his back and pressing his fingers into Mikhail's back. Mikhail ran a hand through Harry's hair, curling his fingers around the thick locks of black before trailing that hand down Harry's neck, chest and side, settling it upon Harry's thigh, caressing the muscle and kneading a bit of his ample ass. It wasn't even so much of the friction that was making it feel so good, or the pressure between their bodies…it was more that the movement quite simulated something else…something Harry knew he wasn't ready for, but yet wanted so badly at the same time…

"You're so beautiful," Mikhail whispered softly.

He dipped down to steal a kiss, and afterwards Harry looked up at Mikhail and his dark brown eyes and that look of _awe_ and _lust _on his face, and immediately, Harry was thrown back into the last time someone was looking down at him like this. But then, it had been a sparkling grey watching him, with shiny blond hair falling forward, and the look wasn't one of reverence and yearning, but of utter adoration and intense desire; a small and partially amused smirk on parted lips, and a healthy flush upon pale cheeks. The vision in front of him clashed so horribly with his memory that he stiffened, and Mikhail caught it immediately and stopped.

"Harry? Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"I…I just-" Harry shook his head, "I'm sorry, Mikhail. It's not…I just…"

"You think we're moving too fast. I'm sorry, I told you we'd move slow and I-"

"No! Don't…it's not you. I said I wasn't complaining, I just…can you…can we…just lie here? I'm feeling a little…"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain. I just want you to be okay with what we're doing. I remember my first time with a guy…I was bloody terrified."

Harry let out a breathless laugh, looking away. "I really liked what we were doing, if it makes you feel better." He took a fistful of his own hair and tugged on it a bit.

The Chaser kissed Harry's cheek soundly and lifted himself up, smiling. "No worries, love. I think the soup's done anyway. Would you like to eat some now, or just lie here?"

"Mmmm…just lie here, for a minute, I think. Then food."

Mikhail nodded and slipped down to Harry's left side while Harry rolled over on his right side, facing away from his boyfriend. Mikhail automatically spooned up behind him, wrapping his arm around the slightly smaller man, kissing his shoulder and neck as they lay there.

This was not how Harry pictured his night to be going—having random Draco-centric flashbacks in the middle of getting it on with his boyfriend.

_But isn't that who you want? Draco Malfoy?_ A sarcastically humoured voice said in the back of his mind.

_Not. The point_. He shot back.

Harry was pretty sure the voice didn't reply not because of defeat, but for the accomplishment that it had brought up the very thing Harry was trying to avoid thinking about. He realised very early on (let's say Mikhail and Harry's first kiss as boyfriends), that playing Mikhail the way Raven had told him to and the way he thought he would just wasn't an option. Mikhail didn't deserve that. No one did. And what kind of person would that make Harry if the first boyfriend, the first _relationship_ he'd ever had was completely false in pretences? So Harry decided to really give Mikhail a shot. To put Draco and that whole emotional disaster behind him, or at least out of his mind for the time being. Focus on Mikhail and their new relationship, let Draco and Raven work things out, and then start hanging out with them again. As friends.

But apparently, he couldn't keep Draco out of his head. It didn't help that they shared classes and Quidditch together. They had been amicable, but as Harry closed his eyes to fight back the sudden unwelcome water in them, he knew that it still stung. It _hurt._ Harry had laid his heart and his feelings out to Draco, and Draco took those feelings, caressed them and almost nurtured them, and then swiftly dashed them to pieces upon waking. Harry had to give Draco credit for warning him off about the situation, but hell, Harry was more than happy to be with both of them! He knew he really liked Raven, was even falling for her in some way, before he had been blindsided by his overwhelming desires and feelings towards Draco.

But it still all fell apart.

Harry cursed Draco as much as he cried for him.

_If this is what finally letting myself get close to someone is supposed to feel like, than I'd rather go back to feeling nothing at all.

* * *

_

_17 October 2003_

_Dear Harry,_

_I have no doubt that you've been receiving letters already about the article in today's _Daily Prophet._ I can only imagine the variety of responses you__'ve already received, and I hope mine doesn't get lost in the fray. _

_I'm writing to tell you that I support you. Assuming Rita Skeeter is supplying at least a partial truth; as I am sure I know you well enough to know what's real and what's not; if not, then give her hell. I cannot say what your parents' or Sirius' feelings were on the subject, but I know that they loved you, and if that love was even a fraction of what I knew it to be, or of my own, know that they would have kept on loving you, and would have supported any decision you made in life, if it made you happy._

_I wish you the best of luck with this relationship of yours, and any other endeavours you choose to pursue. I will try to make it to your next home Quidditch match._

_Much Love,_

_Remus

* * *

_

A dark-haired man stood on a low wooden porch, frowning and fiddling with the buttons on his cloak. Steeling his nerve, he knocked sharply on the wooden door, waiting anxiously for an answer, yet praying that no one would, so he wouldn't have to have this conversation, which he was positive would not go well.

After what seemed like forever, the door finally opened, and a short, blond, bespectacled man greeted him with a rather confused frown.

"Yes?"

"Er…is Draco in?"

Giving him a once-over, and seemingly okaying what he saw, the young man moved out of the way to let him pass. "Yeah, he's upstairs in his room. The door across the stairs."

"Right. Thank you."

He took a few steps inside, nodding to the man holding the door, and took the unforgiving wooden stairs in front of him. _Wood,_ he thought._ Trees; the vitality and immortality of life. Merlin, give me strength. _

He paused at the top before taking the few short steps to the door opposite. Knocking softly upon it, a very timid repeat of his rapping on the front door, he waited for permission to enter, or for the occupant to open it. When he heard Draco's tenor, he paused again, only for a moment, before turning the handle and stepping inside.

He found his quarry sprawled out on the midnight-swathed bed in the centre of the room, like a great white cat, lounging in silk and sunlight, and reading one of many books surrounding him. Draco looked up when he entered, and he felt glued to the spot, the cat's questioning gaze quickly becoming a glare, one of which he was quite sure he'd never like to be the focus of again. Yet the scowl didn't mar the blonde's features, it only cast him in a much cooler light than that of the warm sun shining in through the window. Like silver and gold.

"Chaikovsky. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Mikhail swallowed quickly and said, "I was wondering if we could talk. About Harry."

Malfoy seemed to regard him, weighing something only he knew of. Finally, he sat up from against the headboard and said, "Would you feel more comfortable taking a walk in the public, or staying in here, away from prying eyes and entirely in my domain?" A small smirk accompanied the question, and it threw Mikhail off centre, as only Draco Malfoy probably could. _God, he even exudes an aura of a tiger eyeing some prey that just happened upon its lair._

Mikhail took a quick glance around, noticing the full-length mirror in the corner (with just a little quirk of an eyebrow), the immaculate tidiness—minus the desk—and the silk sheets that just begged to be used salaciously in the warm light, and suddenly being outside, in the wild serenity of nature with crisp, cool, wintry air seemed much more appealing than staying in a warm room bathed in fabrics and man-made things with one of his boyfriend's best friends.

"Outside is fine."

Draco's lips quirked up in a smile and he said, "Meet me downstairs. I just need to get some things in order."

Mikhail nodded without a word, gratefully slipping out of the seclusion of the room, and quickly made his way down the stairs and back outside to the cool woodenness of the porch.

A few moments later, after Mikhail felt he sufficiently cleared his head and fortified his fraying nerves, Draco stepped outside, a black cloak around his shoulders and black dragon hide boots adorning the seemingly perfect white feet he saw earlier.

"Where would you care to go?" Draco asked, not even sparing him a glance as he stepped off of the porch.

"Anywhere's fine."

"Alright." And Draco led Mikhail towards the path that led to the Quidditch pitch. "What is it that you feel you need to talk about with me that involves Harry?"

"Well, I was wondering, if he's ever talked to you about…any, er…intimacy issues he's might have had."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks, and when Mikhail turned back to look at him, blinked, and promptly broke out in laughter.

Through his guffaws, Draco managed, "You-you're asking f-for love advice with Potter from _me_?" At Mikhail's grimace and nod, he only doubled over in continued mirth, holding his stomach in almost-pain.

Mikhail took a hasty look around and was pleased to see no one nearby, though he thought he saw a swish of a curtain in one of the windows of the second dormitory. "Malfoy," he whispered intently, "I'm serious here."

Draco righted himself with a grin and his cheeks flushing with amusement. "I'm sure you are."

Mikhail scowled and stepped close to Draco, and the blond immediately sobered, his grey eyes meeting Mikhail's brown ones directly. "You say you care about Harry," the brunet said fiercely. "If that's true, you'll listen to me. I think there's something wrong."

Those grey eyes narrowed. Draco grabbed Mikhail's arm, hard, and steered him into the woods. Stopping several metres in, he turned to the older man and let go. "It's none of your business how little or how much I care about Harry. But I'll listen. If there's something wrong, I want to know."

Mikhail took a few calculating moments before giving a slight nod and speaking. "He seems afraid of something. Like…well, you probably don't want to know this, but when we start getting intimate, he pulls away. He'll kiss me, and even a bit more, and I'll think everything is fine, but then he suddenly freezes up, and I'm not sure why."

Draco took a moment to freeze his own thoughts from showing on his face and said with more than a hint of coolness, "Have you thought that maybe you're moving too fast for him? You're his _first_ relationship, Chaikovsky. Have you thought about that at all?"

"Yes, and he's told me so. I've apologised each time it's happened; in fact, it happened twice yesterday."

"How many other times?"

"I think that's been it, so far. But I told him, before we even really kissed, that we would take it slow. And I know I might get carried away, and he says he likes what we're doing, but I can't help but think that there's something more. Something he won't tell me."

Draco felt that he a rather good idea about just why Harry might be freezing up on Chaikovsky, but it was too much to hope for. And he wasn't about to divulge the information that the man was looking for. Instead, he asked, "I'm sure I will regret asking this, but how far have you gotten?"

Mikhail's steady gaze flickered away for the barest of seconds before resting back on Malfoy. "Not far," he answered. "We've made out a bit, and I…I gave him a blow-job last night."

Draco grimaced and turned away slightly. _Oh, bad thoughts…_ Draco rather thought he'd like to pummel _and_ hex Chaikovsky just for touching Harry that way. Jealousy burned like poison in his belly. He roughly shoved it aside in favour of giving the man a level stare.

"I'm assuming he pushed you away during that?"

Mikhail's brow furrowed slightly, thinking that it seemed odd that if Draco liked men, he seemed to be uneasy about talking about sex involving them. "No, actually," he answered. "He seemed to like that no problem. It was afterward. I was lying on top of him, and we were sort of moving a little, you know…" he waved his hand in a vague gesture, trailing off.

"Yes, I'm sure I can figure that out. Is that when he stopped you?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps he's just terrified of sex. It wouldn't surprise me, seeing as he's never had it before, even with a woman."

"I've thought of that. I know I was terrified with my first time. But there's something different in Harry's eyes. I don't know how to explain it. I'm just asking if he's ever mentioned anything that might be the reason behind it. I mean…was he abused or anything growing up? It's hard to rely on what's in papers, and I never read that stuff anyway, so I'd rather ask someone who might know."

"And what makes you think I know? I hated Harry for years. I've told you that. Our rivalry is nearly legend. Why aren't you asking Weasley and Granger these questions?"

"Because I thought perhaps…well. I'm not blind, Malfoy. I know you two were really close, at least until recently, and I…" the British-born Russian stopped, staring at Draco for a moment before hesitantly finishing with, "I thought that since he seemed to sort of, figure his sexuality out when he was your friend and not before, that perhaps he might have told you more about himself." The question he really wanted to ask, however, he decided to keep to himself, for the time being. He didn't have any evidence.

"He's _still_ my friend. And if you want to know about his past or his family, ask him. It's up to him to tell whom he wants about things."

"You know, though, don't you?"

His tone was firm. "What I do know, I can't tell you." And that was most definitely true. "And I wouldn't say Harry was abused. At least not…sexually."

"You 'wouldn't say'?"

"Look, Chaikovsky, I'm not going to tell you. It's for Harry to tell. If he doesn't want to, then he doesn't. If he doesn't feel comfortable with sex-related things, don't press him. I know you know that he was still rather fucked up after the war, even up to this year. It's a precarious balance, the board he's walking on. Don't fuck it up by pressuring him into doing things with you. Keep your head out of your dick, alright?"

"Fuck you, Malfoy. I'm not just thinking with my dick. I actually give a shit about Harry, why do you think I'm asking? I _don__'t_ want to pressure him into something he doesn't want. If what you know will help me from fucking up, I'd rather think it's your responsibility to tell me."

"No, it is not. Harry has a right to his privacy, as I'm sure you are _well_ aware of. Just ask him, and if he doesn't want to tell you, just play it on the safe side. Or dump him, if he's not satisfying your libido."

Mikhail growled and clenched his fists, his already rosy cheeks flushing darker, and his nostrils flaring slightly in anger. "You're an asshole, Malfoy. It's a wonder Harry was ever your friend. I think it's plainly obvious why he's not close to you anymore."

Draco settled back and crossed his arms. "Oh? Then please, do tell. My relationship with Harry has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you, or anyone else. If you want to know why or how Harry could ever be friends with me, _ask him._ Like I've bloody well been telling you to do this whole conversation. Harry knows who I am. He's known it first-hand since we were eleven."

"Then what changed?" Mikhail cut in quickly.

Draco smirked. "_That,_ is between Harry and I. And no one else. Now if you'll excuse me, I have important thesis work to get back to." And Malfoy stepped past Chaikovsky, shoving his shoulder rather hard as he walked past.

Mikhail watched the blond go, determined not to rub at his smarting shoulder, and felt like he rather got nowhere. Why did Draco have to be such an ass? Didn't he care about Harry? _Maybe that__'s just it,_ his mind supplied. _Maybe he _does_ care for Harry…much more than he should. And won__'t help me just for the very reason that Harry's with _me_, and not _him.

Letting out a calming breath, Mikhail hurried out of the woods, determined to get past whatever it was that was stopping Harry from wanting to get to close to him. _I just hope it really is just him being terrified,_ he thought.

_But,_ he mused,_ he__'s also a twenty-three year old male who's never been with anyone. Shouldn't he want sex and want it _now

_Not unless he's sexually repressed. I can probably bet that the war made him more worried about his mortality than any amount of affection he might receive from someone._

_I'll just have to play it safe. Take it slower. Gently pull him along, and let him lead more. Make him comfortable with intimacy. Don't demand any type of sex. Ask him questions, like the holier-than-thou Draco Malfoy suggested._

_The only good thing that's come out of that snide and pouting mouth in my presence._

Mikhail was well aware that he had quite a bit more sexual experience than his boyfriend, and that was liable to scare many people off, if they were in Harry's position. But he was also quite aware that there was something that Malfoy was hiding, and for the sake of helping Harry become more comfortable with himself, he was going to find out what it was. If it involved Harry, it involved Mikhail.

* * *

Harry was sitting on his bed in the late morning of Saturday, dressed in a faded grey tee-shirt and dark blue jeans, one white sock on, the other held limply in his hands. He had a rather dazed look on his face, as if he had forgotten just what it was he was doing, but didn't much care. 

He broke out of his stupor when there was a rapping at his door, and he dazedly granted permission for entry.

"Hey mate," said Ron, closing the door behind him. "How'd it go last night? You got in rather late." His freckled face lit up in a suggestive grin.

Harry shrugged, and resumed putting on his near forgotten sock. "It went alright, for my first, _real_ date." He grinned. "Some parts were better than others."

"Uh-huh…" Ron intoned in that 'knowing' way, leaning back against the door behind him. "Did you…?" Though his question was proposed in a rather inquisitive manner, versus the queasy despair of the last time he had asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "_No_, Ron. God, why so interested in my sex life? I _know_ you can't possibly want to know the actual details."

Ron grimaced. "Yeah, you're right. But if only _some_ parts went better, what else happened?"

Harry got very quiet and introspective. "I…froze up, I guess."

A puzzled frown marred the redhead's features. "Froze up?"

Harry nodded. "It's happened twice. Mikhail and I, we'll be kissing, and things will get…more, I guess, more heated, and then I…freeze. I stop it from going further."

Ron bit his lip. "But _why_ do you 'freeze'?" he asked.

Harry looked even more miserable and buried his hands in his hair. All Ron heard was "co".

"Sorry?"

"It's Draco," Harry said a bit louder, obviously clenching his teeth.

"Malfoy?" Ron frowned. "What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

"I can't stop thinking about him!" the Seeker exclaimed, standing up suddenly and pacing his room.

Ron moved forward from his semi-relaxed position against the door. "Calm down, mate."

"No! I _can__'t_. You don't understand, Ron. I was lying there, getting my first and most amazing blow job, and then Draco just popped into my head! It's...it's just…unnerving. I _shouldn__'t_ be thinking about Draco when I'm with my boyfriend!" Lost in his ranting, Harry didn't notice Ron's startled look at the amount of information Harry just let out, nor did he notice when Ron came up to him; not until he was grabbed by the shoulders and shaken out of it.

"Harry, you have _got_ to calm down." When Harry took a deep breath and nodded, Ron went on. "Now, I may not know anything about relationships with guys, or at all, really, outside of Hermione, but I reckon that the fact that you're not over Draco, and you rushed into a _false_ relationship with Mikhail has something to do with your current predicament."

But Harry was shaking his head. "But that's just it, Ron. I decided at the beginning that I couldn't do that to Mikhail. Use him. So I've been _really_ giving him a chance. And I _like_ him. He's nice and good-looking, and cares about me. Just me. Draco loves Raven, and I can't compete with that."

"But you still like Draco, don't you?" Ron asked quietly.

Harry's eyes closed and he looked pained. "Yes," he whispered, before turning away. "Very much, sometimes. I miss him. There's like a huge block between us now, but I can't say I regret what happened. Not really. I never would have known…"

It hurt Ron to see his friend in such a state of warring emotions, but he honestly didn't know how to help him. For Merlin sakes, he didn't even _like_ Malfoy, so why did the thought in his head sound like he was rooting for the pointy-faced git? Ron mentally sighed. It had to be said.

"Do you think it's fair to Mikhail then? _Or_ you? That you know you still care for Malfoy but you're in a relationship with Mikhail?"

"No. I suppose it isn't." The green-eyed man took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "But what should I do? Draco _does_ have Raven; shouldn't I just stay with Mikhail and let them be happy together?"

"I don't know, mate. Do you want to be with them? Both of them? Do you like Mikhail more than you like Draco and Raven?"

"I…" And Harry grimaced. "I don't know what it's like to be with Raven. But all I wanted when I was with Draco was Draco. And when I'm with Mikhail, he won't stay out of my head."

"Do you think you might just want Draco, then?"

Just as Harry was resigning himself to the possibility that Draco _was_ all he really wanted (though he couldn't really deny the curiousness of what being with a woman was like), footsteps were heard pounding on the stairs right before Hermione burst in, breath hard and her cheeks rosy.

"Harry! You _have_ to read this! I almost didn't notice it, but Ginny pointed it out to me this morning. It was buried in the last pages, strangely enough. He must have just barely made it before printing!"

"What? Who?"

"Draco! He wrote an article for the _Evening Prophet_. Here, look!" She thrust the ripped page out at him.

Looking at her intense brown eyes, he took the paper carefully, so surprised at the news that he didn't know what to expect.

The article was about a quarter of the page or more, squished between an advert for Sleekeasy's Hair Potions (which Harry belatedly remembered he had still to get) and a moving picture of a sleazy-looking witch modelling for a 'muggle' clothing shop (though the mismatch of clothing she was wearing didn't secure Harry's faith in the shop's services any). He swallowed nervously before settling his eyes on Draco's words, murmuring them under his breath.

_**Harry Potter, Never the Boy-Who-Lived**_

_**By Draco Malfoy**_

_It's not easy being a friend of Harry Potter. Granted, our friendship is relatively new, but I've known him as long as any of this other friends. His fame will follow him anywhere, and he has a knack for severe moods and attracting trouble. But he's also loyal to a fault, witty, and has a mischievous side to him that makes me wonder if he ever was a true Gryffindor. The frivolities of our mutual friendship and how it came about are not important. However, the fact that I am his friend, and remain so, is._

_Rita Skeeter has done all of us, including you readers, a grave injustice. She writes slander and lies and weaves them with just enough truth that even the relatively well-informed are caught by her trap. I am not going to bother telling you to not believe anything you read; that would defeat the purpose of me writing this column. If you want the truth, read _The Quibbler_. Though this is probably the only instance I would suggest such a thing._

_Many of you might ask if I was surprised to find out that Harry Potter likes men. I don't I think I was surprised, no. But then again, isn't it best to know all the secrets of an adversary? To know them better than you know yourself? Because that's what Harry and I were to each other until this September; adversaries. Yet we are friends now, and I will _not_ sit idly by while someone tries to damage my friend__'s life and make a mocking of mine. And his or those that he is close to. _

_Formal charges against Rita Skeeter's person will be publicly announced in this very newspaper, as well as _The Quibbler_, through Mr. Stanislav Chaikovsky, Law-Wizard and father of the offended Mikhail Chaikovsky, as well as Misters Ira and Roy Oswold, Law-Wizards of the Malfoy Estate. Any grievances with Misters Harry Potter, Mikhail Chaikovsky and myself, Draco Malfoy should be made through them. All other correspondence by unknown persons sent directly to the above persons and their acquaintances will be automatically destroyed. Keep your opinions. You can have them. It__'s nobody's business but our own. Just as your life is your business. Harry Potter has had quite enough grief and public meddling in his life, and wouldn't you like to be left alone if you were him? He is _not_ just a hero of the Wizarding World, he is _not_ just a poster boy for the survival of life as we know it; he is a man, a friend, a lover, a Quidditch player, a son, and an adversary still, to some individuals. He should be treated as such by all. He survived; we all have, to be given a second chance. Not to spend it delving into others__' lives when it is not our place._

_Harry Potter is a person, as are we all. Never should he have been seen as The Boy-Who-Lived. Or anything less than the proud, strong, and intelligent man that he is._

The bit of parchment felt fragile and delicate in Harry's hands as he blinked stupidly at the words blurring in front of his un-focused eyes.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, glanced at Hermione, who glanced worriedly back.

Harry seemed to shake himself out of it. "Yeah, I…I just didn't expect…"

"Didn't expect what, Harry?" Hermione asked gently, after a brief silence.

"For him to…" He shook his head again, keeping his thoughts to himself. "I wonder if Mikhail knows."

"That Malfoy is helping Mr. Chaikovsky? Yeah, I think so," Hermione said.

Ron looked at her curiously and Harry blinked. "Actually, I meant if he knew Draco is filing charges as well. But do you know something I don't?"

"I saw Mikhail and Malfoy talking behind Number Three this morning, just before I came here. Malfoy was laughing about something, and I couldn't see Mikhail's face, but Malfoy got suddenly serious and almost manhandled Mikhail into the woods. I couldn't hear what they were talking about from my window, though. I just assumed from the article that they were working together, and that Mr. Chaikovsky must have told Mikhail."

Harry's brow furrowed just for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess I'll find out later tonight."

"Another date?" Ron asked.

"Not exactly. He's coming over for dinner," the Seeker said, grinning.

"Ooh, a romantic dinner…" Ron crooned, slapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Not really. You're all invited. It's your house too, and I can't cook. Well, I don't know how to cook dinner things. Only breakfast. Wait! Except for Chicken Cacciatore."

Ron looked puzzled. "Chicken what?"

"Chicken Cacciatore. Zabini showed me how once. Sort of. I might remember it."

Hermione's lips parted in preparation to comment, but she refrained and only waved her hand as if to dismiss the rather strange information she just received. "Well, regardless of that, I'm guessing you were just going to wait for us girls to come over, cook dinner, and then bring Mikhail along?"

"Well, when you put it _that_ way…yeah." Harry's grin widened.

"Tch. Men." The young woman smiled and shook her head as if to clear it. "Well, I'm glad you seem so happy with him, Harry. I can't lie to you and say that I don't feel some comfort to see you with someone other than Draco Malfoy. I was really worried you'd get badly hurt there, for a while."

Harry stood there, shocked for a half-second before letting out a terse breath and sharing a glance with Ron.

Hermione didn't miss any of this. "What? What is it?"

As Harry sat down on his bed, Draco's article still in hand, Ron offered a response.

"Harry's been…having problems…er…" He looked back at his friend for some support, permission, anything, but Harry was just looking at that article.

"Having problems with what? Harry?" Hermione inquired.

The man looked up, eyes wistful and pain filled. Quickly averting his gaze he said, "When Mikhail and I are, you know, I just sort of…freeze up."

"Oh," she responded softly. "I…see. So you're _not_ happy with him then?"

"No, that's just it, I am. But I…" Harry rolled his eyes, fed up with being so shy about reluctant about the topic. "I keep thinking about Draco. When I'm kissing Mikhail, or more, Draco keeps popping into my head—the things we did that night—and I freeze up."

"I didn't realise that what happened with Malfoy was still affecting you so much."

"It wasn't, at first. Things have been great with Mikhail; he's sweet, and nice, and handsome, and he wants me. Only me. I'm really starting to like him. But it's just this one thing. I can't seem to shake off what happened with Draco for some reason, it just totally ruins the mood, but I don't know how to explain it to Mikhail. He thinks I've never been with anyone. And if I keep freezing up on him, he's going to want a better explanation than 'you're going too fast.'"

Hermione sat down beside him and took his hand. "Do the thoughts of Draco ruin the mood because it feels like an invasion between you and Mikhail, or because you want Mikhail to _be_ Draco?"

Harry stilled. "What?"

"Do you want what's happening between you and Mikhail?"

"Yes, of course. It feels…really good."

"Okay. Do you want that with Draco more?"

Harry blinked, his eyes widening. "I-er…I don't…" His thoughts raced and he felt a rising panic fluttering madly in his veins as he realised that that was the catch, wasn't it? Who did he want more?

"I know what you're thinking, Harry. But what's best and healthy for you may not be entirely what you want most."

"But I don't even know what I want at all!" _Except to feel loved and _not alone_ anymore,_ his mind supplied.

"We're not saying you do, Harry. This is decision you have to make for yourself."

"Yet I know you two don't like Draco, so I already know what you want me to choose."

"We're not saying that-"

Harry jumped up and backed quickly away from both of his friends, not noticing his fist clutching the newspaper violently. "Yes you are! You could _never_ accept that Draco was decent enough to be my friend, and I would _want_ to be his! You've hated the idea of him and me together even as friends, let alone more. You've said as much yourself just a minute ago! You don't even like that I'm half-gay!"

"Harry, mate, that's not it at all-"

"No! That's the truth, isn't it? You don't like that I fancy blokes, but if I'm going to, I might as well be with the 'smarter' choice, shouldn't I? It doesn't occur to you that Draco helped me discover this part of myself, and that he _and_ Raven broke me out of whatever place I was, that they made me start thinking about myself and what _my_ desires are. What I wanted out of life rather than what I couldn't do in the past. As much as I know they have each other, and I have no future with them, I want what they can give me _now._ But you don't approve of that, do you? Can't have Harry just take what he wants, can you? Just let me be free to make my own choices, my own mistakes, and stop-"

Hermione had finally gotten fed up with Harry's diatribe, and slapped him across the face. "Now you listen here, Harry James Potter, you stop making Ron and I out to be the bad guys. We've _always_ supported you, we _don__'t care_ that you like men, or did we not make that clear to you a week ago? I am more than happy that Raven and Draco helped you out of your shell, Harry, so don't think for one minute that I hate them for that. Or that it didn't occur to us. I just told you not two minutes ago that it was _your_ decision to make. What Ron and I think is best is _not_ the point. We can only give you guidance. You're right; I'm not particularly fond of you and Malfoy together, but it's because I don't want you to be hurt. Because you will, and I know that you know that. But if it'll make you happy, then go for it. Live your life the way you want to. Make choices, make mistakes. Find happiness your way. If you don't know what to tell Mikhail about your 'freezing' moments, I suggest the truth. Before it's too late to be repaired. I don't gather that Mikhail will be too keen to find out you lied to him, but I imagine that he's forgiving enough and understanding enough to realise that you were scared to tell him. But it also sounds like you already know what you want, from what you just yelled at us. So that's my advice. Take it or leave it. It's up to you."

Harry's jaw clenched and a whimper caught in his throat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered, hanging his head. "I'm just so confused. One day, I'll miss Draco more than anything—his company, his mean sense of humour, his smile, those kisses…and then the next, I'll almost completely forget about him, because Mikhail makes me feel like no one exists but me. I'm sorry. I know you guys support me. You always have. I just don't know what to do," he finished with frustration in his tone.

"Harry, mate, it's only been a week. I know you were only with Malfoy for one night, but maybe it'll just take longer to get over him. He was your first, after all."

"Oh? And what experience do you have with it, Ron? You're marrying the only girl you've ever loved."

"I've watched Ginny struggle to get over Dean."

Harry's eyes showed that he understood, but his mouth replied, "I don't want to talk about the war."

"Fine," Ron huffed, "we'll avoid that subject. But Harry, you've got to realise that Malfoy isn't good for you. Not in that way. Just stay friends with him, if you have to keep him around."

"I do have to. I know you guys don't understand, but Draco and I…we _depend_ on each other, in a way that you and I don't. He's always been there, same as you. And he's always been bad for me. It's never stopped us before."

"Yeah, but then he wanted to kill you."

"And now, he's messing with your heart," Hermione put in.

"He never wanted to _kill_ me," Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, before moving to sit on his bed. "_Fuck._ I…you're right. I should just…give it some time. I'll stay friends with Draco. He has Raven after all, though I…" He just let the sentence hang, and Ron and Hermione leaned forward almost imperceptibly in wait for the conclusion.

"Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry jumped. "Yeah?"

"Though you what?"

"Oh! Er…" He blushed and looked away. "Though I…still wonder what it's like to be with a girl."

Ron and Hermione shared a blushing glance before Ron patted Harry on the shoulder. "I'm sure it's just as great as being with a guy."

When Harry and Hermione shot him odd looks, he amended, "Different, but just as great."

"So you still like Raven then?" Hermione clarified.

Harry tilted his head back and forth. "Yeah," he replied with a shrug. "It's kind of weird to think about, though. I thought I was falling for my friend's girlfriend, you know, and then suddenly I was thinking about Draco, and now, boys are about all I think about."

They all chuckled, and Hermione asked, "Do you feel better now, Harry?"

He shrugged again. "A little. We'll see how it goes. But thanks for slapping some sense into me. Literally."

"I didn't like doing it, but you're welcome." She brushed the pink skin of his perpetually rosy cheeks before giving him a swift kiss and hug and said, "Now, Ron and I have to go to London to finalise some wedding things, so we'll see you later, unless you'd like to come?"

"I'd like to, but I'd better go thank Draco, before I've got to work on my homework before meeting up with Mikhail."

"Okay." Just before leaving the room, Hermione asked, "What would you like for dinner, by the way?"

Harry smiled. "Surprise me."

The woman rolled her eyes, but replied, "Never want to make a firm decision anymore, do you?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "I think I've made enough of those 'firm decisions' to last me a lifetime, thank you very much."

"So be it then. Don't give me flack when I make something you and your sweetie don't like."

Ron put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "You're an amazing cook, love. I'm sure you'll make something great."

With an exaggerated sigh, Hermione led the way out, rolling her eyes at her boys in exasperation. "Bye Harry."

"Bye. Have a good day. Let me know if you need any help."

"Will do."

After they left, Harry let out a cleansing breath. Now all he had to do was face Draco. And be _firm_. Because of that 'decision' thing he made. Yeah. Right.

_Fuck.

* * *

_

Harry tucked the article away in his jacket pocket, making his way across the courtyard to Number Three. It was very chilly outside, and Harry was starting to wish he'd worn his heavy winter cloak, when he heard someone calling his name from ahead.

"Harry! Harry!"

"Oh, hey, Raven." He accepted the brief hug she gave him.

"Going to see Draco?"

"Yeah, how about you?"

"Coming to see you, actually. I haven't seen you in a while, thought we could spend some time together, if you weren't busy. How'd you like the article? I read it last night. Going to go maim our lovely blond journalist, or shower him with your greatest affections?"

"Er…neither?"

"Then your plan is…?"

"To, er…thank him, actually. That's all."

"Oh. Well. Um, after you're done with that, would you like to hang out?"

"Well, I have a bit of homework to work on, but sure, if you just want to hang out and work on that together."

Raven screwed up her nose in a cute way. "Oh bother, you're no fun. But yeah, sure. Come and get me when you're done with our little Dragon."

"Sure thing. Later."

"Later, Harry."

He watched her walk back to her dorm, robes flowing behind her, before turning up the path that led to Draco's dormitory. Knocking on the door, it only took a moment before short, blond Stewart Ackerley to open the door. Pushing his glasses up, the younger man asked, "Harry Potter. Here to see Malfoy, I imagine?"

"Yes, Stewart. Is he in?"

"Yeah. Up the stairs, and I assume you know where his room is?"

"Yeah, I've been here before."

"I remember." Stewart opened to door wider to let Harry pass. "Your _boyfriend_ was here earlier, did you know that?"

"I heard. Nothing horrible happened, I hope?"

The former Ravenclaw shrugged. "Dunno. Malfoy came back with a rather snide look on his face, though. But Malfoy almost always has a snide look on his face."

Harry chuckled. "Hmm. Well, thanks, Stewart."

"Yeah, yeah. Just promise to stop interrupting my homework time."

"Sure thing." And Harry gave a quick wave before jogging up the stairs. He knocked on Draco's door, calling out his identity.

"Come in."

Harry opened the door to find Draco sitting on his bed, absolutely surrounded with parchment, scrolls, and books. An open inkwell was balancing precariously on a large stack of books that towered from the floor, and Draco was hunched over a particularly long scroll, referencing a particularly large book on his lap, running the feather of his quill thoughtfully over his lips. He seemed to finish reading whatever it was he was reading before finally looking up at his visitor.

"Harry. Come in and close the door. Sorry about the mess. I'm getting a head-start on my Potions thesis."

"Its fine," Harry replied, closing the door and taking a few steps into the room. "To be honest, I rather thought you'd look up and be wearing glasses, looking such the scholar the way you did."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "And be a speccy git like you? Never."

Harry smiled as Draco took out his wand and cast a charm to banish all of his parchments and books to their proper place on the desk and shelves. The inkwell floated straight to his hand, where he recapped it and reached to set it on his night table, placing his quill next to it.

"Here, sit down." He gestured to the spot next to him on the bed, and as Harry settled down, making sure to keep his shoes from touching the duvet, Draco asked, "So…what's the visit for?"

"Oh. Well, I, er, wanted to thank you, actually. For this," Harry pulled the article out of his jacket pocket, flattening it out with his palms on his thigh. "It was…unexpected."

An amused expression grew on Draco's face. "You're welcome, Harry. I couldn't just let what that bitch said slide, you know. She damaged your reputation as well as mine."

"Well, yeah. But you didn't have to. You could have just announced your plans to put charges on Skeeter."

"Yes, I could have. But I wanted you to know how I felt."

Harry glanced up at his friend. "What do you mean? You could have just told me."

Unexpectedly, Draco took one of Harry's hands, placing it between his own. "I could have," he repeated. "But even with me helping Chaikovsky's father, I felt like I wasn't doing enough. I still don't feel like I am." Harry's unease grew as Draco looked up at him. "Tell me how you want me to help. I'll do it, no questions asked."

This sudden unwavering loyalty unnerved Harry more than ever, and he extracted his hand as delicately as he could, replying, "No, Draco. There really isn't anything to do, except let the lawyers handle it. I'm thankful for your help in that department too. But really, you don't need to do anything more. You've done more than enough. No less than I would expect."

Draco pretended not to notice Harry's withdrawal from him. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means," Harry said, putting away the article, "that I expected you to exact revenge on Skeeter, and you're doing so. You really don't need to help me. I'm fine. Mr. Chaikovsky's handling it, from what I gather from Mikhail."

"Yes, it's so perfect having a boyfriend with parents in high places, isn't it?" Harry didn't miss the animosity in his tone.

"Now, what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. It means nothing."

"No, it does. Are you jealous?"

Draco levelled a look at Harry. "What do you think, Potter?"

Harry took a breath. "I think you are. I think you're beating yourself up about suggesting I date Mikhail, and you can't handle that maybe I might be happy with him. That maybe it won't be temporary. That maybe I _want_ it to last."

Draco snorted, ignoring again the twinge of truth Harry's words had. "Don't kid yourself, Potter. You're not fooling me. I know that you're not entirely happy. Otherwise, your stupid brute of a boyfriend wouldn't be coming to _me_ asking for sex advice when dealing with _you_."

Harry stilled for a moment, before saying softly, "Don't call Mikhail that. And what do you mean, going to you for sex advice?"

"You didn't know Mikhail came by this morning, about an hour or so ago?" asked Draco archly.

"I knew he came by. Not why. Hermione told me, and Stewart," Harry added.

Draco's arms crossed and he smirked a knowing smirk that Harry decided he _definitely_ didn't like on the blonde's face. Right before he spoke, however, he grew serious. "He wanted to know if you were abused growing up. If that's why you kept 'freezing up' on him, as he claimed."

Harry's breath whooshed silently out. "What did you say?"

"To talk to you, as always. I'm not going to tell him anything, Harry. And I mean that. Anything. I promised you."

Harry pursed his lips. "I don't know what to tell him. The 'too fast' excuse will get old, fast."

Draco cocked his head. "So it's not 'too fast'? What is it then?"

Harry avoided Draco's gaze and fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. He quite realised that he couldn't just ignore Draco's question, but he also knew he might have said too much for their current standing of relationship.

"Harry?"

The green-eyed man jerked slightly, before settling in with, "It is too fast, and it's not to fast. I don't mind what we've been doing, but I'm unsure of myself. I've never been with anyone other than you. And what we did was fantastic. It really was. But Mikhail expects a certain level of hesitancy from me, and sometimes that hesitancy is real. I just don't always feel completely comfortable. I'm afraid it'll lead to sex."

Draco hid his smirk as much as he could, cocking an eyebrow. "And this is a bad thing how?" At Harry's huffy roll of eyes, he clarified, "Don't you want to get laid? Finally lose that pesky virginity?"

"This might come as a _surprise_ to you, Draco," Harry said, face set, "but I actually want to _love_ the person I sleep with. I don't think I love Mikhail. Not yet."

"Harry, you are depriving yourself now almost as much as you were being a sulking mass of flesh. You hardly seem to have any problem actually _jumping_ into the bed stark naked, doing things that I'm _sure_ your mother would wash out your mouth for, yet you can't open up yourself to the possibility of exploring all venues of sexual pleasure?" Draco made a 'tutting' noise in his mouth. "Apparently, that book I left for you has been sorely neglected."

"Shove off, Malfoy."

"But what I'm saying is true, isn't it?"

"So what if it is? And why turn the tables, Draco? Make up your fucking mind. You don't want me with Mikhail, I _know_ you don't, but now you're wondering why I won't sleep with him?"

"My opinions have never changed, Harry. Yeah, I still don't want you with him. I want you with _me_. And Raven. We know you. And we care about you."

Harry stood up and faced the man on the bed. "Mikhail cares about me too! _Only_ me! You have Raven, so what the fuck do you need _me_ for? I can't be second to someone else, Draco, I thought I could, and maybe a part of me wants to; wants to be with you both at once. But I can't just be set aside. I know that as a certainty now. And you can't give me your full attention. I'll always be vying for it with Raven."

Draco got up on his knees. "I want to _try,_ Harry. I _want _to give you all the attention in the world, but you won't let that even be a possibility."

Harry paused. "What're you saying? Don't you love Raven anymore?"

"Of course I do. But I…I can't _not_ have you in my life, Harry. I…I care about you too much."

Harry could feel his heartstrings being pulled so tight they might snap, and he didn't like the thought of the backlash. "I can still be in your life, Draco. We're friends first, right?"

"Of course, but I don't think I can live like that. It'll be too painful." The blond closed his eyes and sat back on his heels. "Besides, I'm not sure how long Raven and I will be lasting."

"What? What do you mean?" Harry found himself closer to the bed without even realising he took the steps.

The blonde's shoulders slumped some more before he sighed. "I don't want to doom our relationship, but I just can't find it in me to care for her as much anymore. I don't find myself always enjoying our private time together, though I do anyway, but just not with the same intensity as before. The thought of finally having sex with her isn't as strongly appealing as it was. And it's not because the fight, or because of anything else. It's just that…all I can ever think about is you."

Harry tried not to wince, and only stood there nervously. Before he could reply to that brutally honest admission, Draco laughed without humour and said,

"But it's not like you're thinking about me as much, is it? You've got Mikhail and your _practically_ perfect relationship to think about now." The jab about Harry's 'problem' was left unsaid.

Harry, himself, was trying to reign in his instincts to get upset with Draco. Draco wasn't the same, and really, neither was Harry. The instincts to get angry with each other were so great however, that sometimes it was easier to fall back into habits of yesteryear than to think more rationally. Unfortunately, it was almost just as painful either way, because on one path, you hurt in a way that you never had before, even with familiar anger, because you knew too much about the other person, and they knew too much about you. But the other path led to near self-destruction in the extreme cases—you contained the anger inside of you until it burst free of it's confines in the most unflattering of manners, and at the worst time imaginable.

After successfully filing away the stinging wound of Draco's words he said, "I think about you all of the time too, Draco. But you're right—sort of—I do think about my relationship with Mikhail too. And homework and life and my best friends' wedding, and I…I don't know. I break down sometimes. I don't know how I feel; if dating Mikhail is the right thing, if I care about him enough to make it last, or if trying to be in a relationship with two people I _know_ won't last will make me happier. I just don't know." Harry toed off his shoes and kneeled on the bed in front of Draco. "But I _do_ know that I care a lot about you. And Raven, in a way. I understand that you might not feel like you care about her as much. My focus has always been on you too. Even before I ever thought about guys. I was always thinking about what you would think about me having those kinds of thoughts about Raven. I always cared what you thought. I still do. But, I also like Mikhail. He's a _really_ great guy, and he doesn't deserve to be hurt or used. And, like I've said to you and Ron and Hermione; he cares about me. Just me. And if I can make it work, fall in love with him, than I'll try. I'm sorry."

When Harry coupled his last words with a brush of his hand on Draco's shoulder, the blond jerked back like a startled colt, but his gaze was wide, dark, and painful, as if he was trying to be cold and angry, but pain he was feeling was choking it down. Harry thought he saw the same battle he had just had moments ago in the other man's steel grey eyes. Draco's voice was soft and intense when he spoke.

"I _want_ to be with you Harry, more than anything right now. More than the happiness I could possibly have with Raven, more than breathing, more than _life_. I think about it all the time. And besides knowing that I screwed up beyond measure, I want to _try._ I know that it seems stupid, that I _do_ have Raven, and you _could_ start having a life with someone else, instead of waiting for me to let you go, but Merlin, I don't _want to._ I don't _want_ to let you go. Ever." He swallowed thickly, his intense stare darting away for just a fraction of time, as if he couldn't handle that he's just said something so soul-bearing. Or he was embarrassed by it.

Harry's chest was tense with some unnamed emotion. It was starting to hurt, and he realised he couldn't breathe, and he had never heard something so…_honest_ and _heartbreaking_, or directed so solely at him, and he didn't know how to respond, and what was Draco trying to say? That he'd break up with Raven? That he'd only be with Harry? That he…? No. No, that wasn't possible. He couldn't possibly. And Harry knew _he_ didn't, so… But he'd never thought about it before either, so… _Oh fuck, I think I__'m gonna pass out…_

"Harry? Harry, please say something." The man with the deepest green eyes could barely hear the plea in Draco's words over the rushing in his ears, and his vision was starting to waver, and some dim part of his brain realised he was blacking out from lack of oxygen, and _why can__'t I _breathe_? Oh, fuck…Draco…

* * *

A/N: Ah...I love cliffies. :D__ I haven't done one of those for this story, I don't think. So it's long over-due. I'll try to get het next chapter out **as soon as I can**, but I make no promises. I can't. I really am surprised I got this one out so soon. In the mean time, tell me what you think is gonna happen in the next chapter. Or better yet, why Harry keeps passing out when bombarded with strong emotions involving Draco. I'd really like to see what you guys are thinking...it's almost inspiration, I swear._

_Oh, and I'll respond to the reviews I can soon. Prolly tomorrow (Monday to me, even though it's 1:18 am). Since, of course, it is so late, and I've got two classes tomorrow. So yeah... Review responses. Soon. That I can promise._

_I love you all! Thank you for reading, and please review!  
_


	21. Jaded Lies

_**Chapter notes: **Well, I really can't apologise enough to all of you, my wonderful readers. You all have been SO patient with me this last nine months or so...with my quarterly updates and all... 'The Bet' had it's yearly anniversary back in December, and I didn't even notice! So, I dedicate this chapter to all of you, because you deserve it, waiting so long with such a horrible cliffhanger._

_I'm immensely sorry for not getting this chapter out sooner. I had the continuation of Draco and Harry's plight already written, and then I hit not only the end of the school quarter, but a major writer's block. I know school had become a rather well-worn excuse, but there really are times when as much as I want to, I either can't get the story out of me, or I'm just too busy and bogged down with other worries to accomplish anything._**  
**

_Again, I want to thank **IcyAurora **for beta'ing for me! She's probably busier than I am, and she still finds the time to encourage me and edit my writing. I love you, babe! For the next chapter, I will be bringing on a new beta, and will announce her properly when the time comes._

_Now, forget about me, I _**know**_ you want to find out what happens to Harry! _

**

* * *

Chapter XX – Jaded Lies

* * *

**

"Harry? Harry!"

_Goddammit, what's wrong? Why won't you _breathe Draco leaned over Harry's prone form, which had fallen next to him on the bed when he passed out. _But why? What did I say? Why is this happening?_ "Come on, Harry, _breathe_!" He shook his friend's shoulders, watching as Harry's head just lolled to the side, his glasses skewing from his nose.

Becoming desperate, Draco let go and started looking for something to help Harry. _Come on, Malfoy, _think!_ Wand…where__'s my wand…_ Digging it out of his robe pocket, Draco leaned back over Harry and whispered, "_Ennervate!_"

He dropped his wand as Harry jolted awake, choking on air, gasping for a steady breath, and convulsing in coughs.

"Oh_ Merlin,_ Harry! Are you alright? You stopped breathing—I didn't know what to do-"

Between coughs, Harry tried to sit up, but kept falling back as nausea made its repeated claim over him. "I'm—I'm okay. I just..._fuck_!" Another bout of coughs tickled his lungs, and he curled up on himself a little, closing his eyes in exhaustion as they passed.

"Do you need anything?"

Harry's eyes fluttered, and blinking away tears he whispered, "Water…"

"Right. Shit…" Draco leaned over Harry to retrieve his wand from the floor where it fell and quickly cast a summoning charm towards his night table, where a glass of water appeared immediately. "Here," he said, taking the glass and leaning over the man on his bed, fully prepared to help him drink it. But Harry was determined to do it himself.

Harry's eyes finally opened all the way and he rolled back, absently pushing his glasses to their proper place. He pushed himself up enough to accept the water without disturbing the nausea, quickly gulping it down before handing the empty glass back and flopping back onto the bed.

"Harry?" Draco ventured after a moment.

"Yeah?" Harry answered a little breathlessly.

"What happened?"

Harry looked down to see Draco watching him with worry. "I was hoping you could tell me."

"Well, we were sitting here, and I was saying…" Draco looked away, "…I was saying that I don't want to let you go, and you just—I don't know—you just stopped breathing, and then you passed out, and I had to revive you."

There was a pregnant pause before, "Oh."

"Is that all you're going to say? You had me scared shitless. I didn't know what was wrong-"

"Draco, I'm fine. I just…I don't know what happened. I can't even remember what my last thought was. I still feel dizzy."

That triggered something in Draco's brain. "Dizzy… This has happened before."

"What?"

"This…you passing out—or nearly. That time, right before you and I…when we were modelling."

"Yeah…" Harry's eyes unfocused as he remembered.

"And the reason you almost passed out then was because…because you were overwhelmed. By feelings that you didn't know what to do with."

Harry frowned. "Okay…"

"Do you…remember what you were feeling before you passed out?"

It took a second, but Harry did. "No," he lied curtly, before sitting up. "I should go. I have homework." He started moving off of the bed.

"Harry, do you really think you should be walking after you just _stopped yourself from breathing_?"

Harry was now sitting at the edge of the bed, his back facing Draco. "Look, Draco. I know you're worried, but I'm fine. You said once that you'd be my lover or my friend, which ever one I needed, and right now, I need you to be my friend and not my lover. Or my mother." He stood and headed for the door on mostly stable legs.

When his hand was on the doorknob, Draco said, "You never had a mother."

Harry turned around with a grave look on his face, forcing himself to take Draco's comment in the way he meant it, and not the way it sounded. "I did, once. Even if I can't remember her. I just need you to be my friend, Draco. Please? Things are just too intense right now, and I need someone who won't fight against me."

"I'm not trying to fight you, Harry."

"I know you're not trying, but you are, even if you don't realise it, by telling me about how you feel. Because even though I mostly feel the same way, you made a choice, I made a choice, and you promised you wouldn't sway me either way. And you _are_ trying, and I need you to stop. Just be my friend, okay? Even if it means losing me in the end."

He watched as Draco's mouth became a firm line and he swallowed.

"Okay. I can do that. If that's what you need."

"It is. Thank you, Draco."

"It's no problem."

"Yes it is, but thanks for trying to reassure me anyway." And with a last tired smile, Harry was gone.

Draco kneeled on his bed for long moments, his mind racing through his recent conversation, not staying on any one moment in time for long.

_Wait... 'mostly feels the same way'? What did he mean? _

_Fuck. It's not like I can ask him about it now; he wants me as a friend, and that would only bother him. So. I'll be his friend. I can do that. I just don't want him with Mikhail._

_Fuck! But I can't say anything about that; he knows how I feel—wait, could that be what he meant? He mostly doesn't want to be with Mikhail either? Dammit, that makes no sense. FUCK!_

Draco flopped back on his bed, turning and churning his thoughts around, not having a clue as to where to go from here. Is this what Weasley and Granger felt like when Harry started becoming friends with him? Well, without the attraction bit? Goddammit, Draco was starting to feel more irritated than resigned; being confused about how to just be Harry's friend when he was in love with him was only part of the problem. So what to do…?

_I was 'just friends' with Raven before we finally got together…but we were always teasing each other too, and I know that's not going to work with Harry—it'll only confuse him more. Okay, different tactic then…_

_Blaise and I are friends, but all we ever do is sit around and bitch about the inconsequential things or talk about girls. Harry's not like that. And talking about girls would be rather uncomfortable…_

_Just face it, Malfoy; you're relationship with Harry is in a cauldron of its own, and all I can really do is…try and be how we were before._

_If that's possible._

_Fuuuuuck…_ Draco groaned into his pillow, rolling over and trying to cower from the world, hoping it would just pass him by and right itself again when it was time to stop hiding.

That thought made Draco still. He sat up slowly, his gaze at the wall narrowing.

Draco Malfoy didn't hide. Not anymore.

With a renewed sense of self, Draco took out his wand and went about summoning all of the books and parchments he had been working on, grabbing his quill and attacking his research with more than just the dull purpose he had been tackling it with before.

_No. No more hiding. Deal with your mistake, Malfoy. You made a choice, and so did he. Now's the time to live with it, because it can't be changed._

It could only be resolved over time.

* * *

Harry was half-way home before he realised he forgot to get Raven. Turning around, he marched over to Number Four and knocked on the door. Raven opened the door almost immediately, which made Harry think that she must have been waiting specifically for him. She smiled as she greeted him, and it eased a bit of the tension in his chest. Here was someone who wouldn't be demanding anything out of him except his company. 

"You ready to study?" he asked.

"Sure, though I must say that this isn't my ideal option for something to do with you today." She grabbed a rucksack filled with books from the floor, following Harry outside.

"Sorry. What exactly did you have in mind?"

Raven hopped down the stairs after Harry and looped an arm through his. "Going back to your place, where I can pin you down on the bed and ravish you breathless."

Harry blinked and nearly tripped over his feet. He made an unsure noise in his throat, thinking that it was suddenly depressing rather than fascinating that nearly everyone he knew was wanted something sexual out of him. Well, three people wasn't _everyone_ he knew, but it sure felt like it.

"Er…you wouldn't happen to be joking, would you?"

Raven kissed his cheek and pulled him forward. "Of course I am. Now, tell me what he said to put you in this mood."

"What makes you automatically think it was him?"

"Oh. Was it you, then?"

"No. Yes. It was both of us." He paused. "Tell me, how have you two been? Since you got back together?"

Raven shrugged. "We're pretty good. Haven't really spent too much time as a couple…since you and Chaikovsky started dating," she finished quietly. Letting go of his arm, she followed him up the stairs to Number One. "Draco's completely enamoured with you, you know."

Harry didn't look back as he opened the door. "I know."

They went up the stairs silently. "I know you care a lot about him too, Harry." Once in Harry's room, Raven set her things near the bed and turned to her friend.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Harry. I just thought you might need a friendly ear."

He smiled at her. "Thanks. But I think I'm okay. For right now, at least. I'm more worried about you and Draco."

Raven smiled back. "Don't worry about us. Things will turn out how they're supposed to in the end."

Harry thought the comment odd, but didn't let it show. Instead, he took off his shoes and jacket and grabbed his potions book from his desk, settling down beside Raven to study.

* * *

_18 October 2003_

_I hear there's a Muggle saying that goes: "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade."_

_When my Muggle-born dorm mate Stewart Ackerley said that to me upon seeing my face this afternoon, I didn't know exactly what he meant. But now that I've talked with Harry, I've figured it out. I'll make lemonade._

_With a twist of fig, a splash of lime, and a shot of mango._

_Because that's what life has truly handed me; lemons, figs, mango and a bit of lime._

_Merlin, that's gotta taste revolting._

_But, I'll swallow it down, like one of those healing potions that I'm so good at making. Well, I excel at all potions, but my healing potions always seem to turn out even more powerful than my others. Now, if I could only make them taste better. I've been working on it for my thesis, actually._

_Unfortunately, there isn't anything I can add at this particular time to make this cocktail any more appetising. So, I'm going to wait it out. Be patient. Because that's all I can do right now. Harry needs me. He told me how, and I _know_ that I can__'t betray that; I can't do what I did before, which was keep pushing at him to change his mind. I made a choice too, and now I have to live with it.

* * *

_

_Dear Remus,_

_Thank you for the letter. It means a lot to me that you still stand by me and my decisions. I think I've been blessed to have such understanding friends and family. Because you really are a part of my family, Remus. Along with Hermione and Ron and the Weasleys. I can't imagine what it would be like if any of them hated me._

_That's my fear, I think. To have the people I care about hate me for who I am and who I like. I haven't told anyone about that. Except you. So, thank you, Remus. For not hating me, and for the words about my parents._

_My next home Quidditch match on the fifteenth of November, at noon. I think we're playing Moscow's Manticores. I hope to see you there._

_Love,_

_Harry

* * *

_

"What's that you're writing, Harry?"

Harry turned around from his desk to face Raven, who was lying on her stomach on his bed, a book in front of her and an acid pop in her hand.

"A letter to Remus Lupin."

"Remus Lupin? Wasn't he a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in my first year?"

"Yeah. That was my third year. He's a really good friend of my parents. And of Sirius."

Raven looked down and sucked on her candy for a moment. "Sirius was your godfather, right? The man who died that year."

"Yes. He was framed for murder at the end of the First War."

"I'm sorry you've lost so much of your family. I guess it makes me lucky; even though my parents and I are always at odds."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe that's how some families are. I never felt myself lucky until I went to Hogwarts, after I met Hagrid, and Ron and Hermione, and all of my friends… It makes me sad to have never known my parents, but it hurts more to have lost Sirius, who could have taken me away from the Dursleys. He was sort of like a father to me. And a friend. So, just because my legal family is gone, doesn't mean I still don't have family. My friends. You. Draco. You all mean as much to me as my parents or Sirius do."

Raven nodded. "You are lucky, Harry."

He smiled. "More than I know, I suspect."

Raven tilted her head. "No, Harry. You know how lucky you are."

There was a semi-uncomfortable pause before Harry asked, "How's your homework coming?"

The girl tossed her hair back and crinkled her nose at her book. "I never thought I'd think back on Hogwarts and wish that Mr. Binns was still my History of Magic Professor. He gave us long and boring assignments, sure, but he couldn't remember our names well enough to give us anything but passing grades!"

Harry chuckled. "Sounds like you need a break. I should make us sandwiches. Are you hungry?" He stood up from his place at his desk, stretching his legs with a nearly inaudible groan.

"Have fun getting into the kitchen, mate. Hermione won't let me within a five foot's pace of that room."

"Hey Ron," Harry greeted his friend, who was leaning against the door jam, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey Harry. Hello, Harrell."

"Weasley. Why won't Granger let you into the kitchen?"

Ron shrugged. "Might have something to do with that _thing_ you coerced her into making a big how-do-you-do dinner for," he said pointedly at Harry, grinning.

Raven sat up and turned around. "What dinner?"

After a prolonged moment of looks between Harry and Ron, Harry finally said, "I invited Mikhail over for dinner tonight. I asked Hermione to help me, since I don't know how to cook all that well."

"And it's not like she wasn't going to come over and cook dinner anyway," said Ron sarcastically.

"Ah," Raven mused, leaning back on her hands. "I see. Are you nervous?"

Harry shrugged. "A little. He doesn't really know anyone but Ron, and I figured since we went to his place last night, we'd go here tonight."

That piqued Raven's interest. "You went out to his place? Do tell."

Harry shifted. "Er…there's not much to tell…"

"Sure there is," said Ron.

"No, not really-"

"Of course there is, Harry. Why don't you tell her what you told me?"

Harry glared at Ron, his face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

"Ooh, what'd you tell him?" Raven asked, leaning forward.

Harry set his mouth and turned to stare at Remus' letter on his desk. _I__'ll have to send that to him before Mikhail gets here, if I can…_

"Harry?" Raven asked. "You, er, don't have to tell me, if you really don't want to." She looked to Ron, who was moving his eyes restlessly over the hardwood floor, obviously embarrassed to have brought up the subject.

"Raven?" Harry started, "Have you ever had a problem…with…I don't know, not being able to be…_completely_ comfortable around a person when you're, you know…?"

Her brow furrowed as she looked at her obviously troubled friend. "Well, Harry, I've generally always been, er, 'in control', or the instigator in those situations. I've wanted the men, so I've gone after them."

Raven and Ron watched as Harry half-smiled and replied, "But you haven't really gone after me, have you?"

"No," she said, "I haven't." Then Raven stood up from the bed and went over to Harry, taking his face into her hands to look straight into his eyes. "Harry, love, what's bothering you?" She smiled. "Do you _want_ me to go after you? More openly, I mean?"

Harry looked shyly away. "No, that's not it. I just…" He looked to Ron, who gazed steadily back. "I've been having a sort of problem when I'm with Mikhail sometimes."

Raven guided Harry back to the bed, sitting down next to him and asking quietly, "What sort of problem? Are you not comfortable with him?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm comfortable enough."

"But not during sex."

He winced. "We haven't had sex. It's just when things are-"

"Getting heavy?" Ron supplied from the door.

"Yeah," Harry said, standing up again. He turned to face Raven. "I like him, but I'm having trouble getting over Draco."

Raven hummed in an understanding way. "Regardless of my feelings for Draco, Harry, it doesn't surprise me that you're having trouble. Realising you like guys is not small thing, and what Draco did to you the next morning wasn't pleasant. Or particularly sane on his part." She leaned forward. "It's not a crime to still have feelings for him, even if you're seeing someone else."

There was a meditated pause while Harry thought on that. Finally, he said quietly, "I still want to try with Mikhail. I told Draco to just be my friend, because I'd rather salvage what friendship we still have than risk ruining it further."

The girl on the bed cocked her head to the side. "Has he not been your friend?"

With a sigh, Harry replied, "Yes and no. He's been pushing me to break up with Mikhail, though he didn't seem to realise he was actually pushing. I just want things to be right between us again."

"No offence, Harry," said Ron, "but when has _anything_ been 'right' between you and Malfoy?"

Before Harry could reply, Ginny's voice floated up from downstairs. "Harry! Mikhail's here!"

Raven and Ron watched as Harry blanched and backed a few steps away from the door.

"Oh shit!" Harry said in a fierce whisper, panicking. "He's _early_! I'm not ready!"

Ron burst out laughing while Raven giggled joyously behind her hand. "Harry. Harry! Calm down, you'll sound like a girl!" she laughed.

Harry's eyes went wide, but he took a deep breath and exhaled, nodding. "Okay. Er, Ron! Could you go downstairs and tell Mikhail to, er, make himself at home and tell the girls to get him something to drink or something, okay?"

Ron snapped to salute. "Aye, aye, Capt'n!" He turned on his heel and left, an amused smirk on his lips.

Raven stood. "I suppose I should get going, so you can get ready."

"No! No, I need you to help me with, yeah, getting ready," Harry said distractedly, turning abruptly and starting to rummage through his wardrobe.

"Harry, honestly, you look fine! He's seen you at your sweaty, muddy worst; I don't think he really cares what you look like."

He turned to her, a black sock in one hand and an older robe in the other. "So you never dress up for your boyfriends, regardless of how messy they've seen you before?"

Raven conceded. "Okay, so I can see why you'd like to look good for the sake of looking good. I guess I do the same thing, I just don't think about it."

"Just help me find something different than an old grey t-shirt. And fix my hair." He blew his fringe out of his eyes. "If that's possible."

Raven smiled, moving past him to look through his wardrobe. "Do you want a robe, or just a nice shirt?"

"Er…just a nice shirt, I think."

"Okay…" She sorted through his clothes for a few moments, pausing every now and then to ponder whatever it was she was looking for.

"You must really like him to care so much about how you look," she mused, still looking.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. He's pretty cool."

Raven turned around with a black, high collared dress shirt. "'Pretty cool'? Harry, is that how you'd want your boyfriend to describe you? 'He's pretty cool'?"

He laughed under his breath. "No, I suppose not."

"Good. Because if he's only 'pretty cool', then we need to find you a new guy. He's not worthy of you." Ignoring Harry's questioning expression, she moved forward. "Try this one."

But Harry grabbed her wrists, gently. "Raven, do you think I'm making a mistake? By not giving Draco another chance; by not telling Mikhail what happened between Draco and I?"

"Harry, I'm not the best one to be asking that question to-"

"Please. Tell me."

Raven met Harry's gaze. "Yes, I do. But I'm biased, Harry. I want you and Draco to work it out. Yet I think it's a good thing that you've set some boundaries with him; I think he needs the space to clear his head for a while. But nothing changes that you two understand each other in a way that neither Mikhail nor even I get. A way that goes _beyond_ friendship. Draco and I understand each other because of what _we__'ve_ been through together. But _your_ past together and your possible future is what makes you two strong together. Mikhail will never understand you that way, but even more; you should be with someone you're comfortable with. Someone you're not afraid to tell the truth to; someone you don't hesitate to tell secrets or important things to, because they're the first person you think of to talk to, even if you don't know them well or you're not sure if they'll spread them around or laugh in your face. Someone you're attracted to, yet you know their flaws and you still love them for it. If you find someone like that, hold on to them; regardless of their stupid misguided mistakes."

Harry's nostrils flared slightly, but not in anger. "And to you, that someone for me has been Draco."

"I see what I see, Harry. And I know what my gut is telling me. You'll never feel completely comfortable with how you and Draco separated, and you'll never be completely comfortable with Mikhail or with the fact you lied to him. And you're too afraid to see if Mikhail will still want to be with you if you tell him the truth."

"I'm not afraid," Harry said in a dark tone.

"Bullshit, Harry. For all of your Gryffindor courage, and your courage on the battlefield, you can't seem to find the courage to live an every-day life."

"This isn't a goddamn battlefield, and I'm _not_ a Gryffindor anymore, Raven." He closed his eyes for a moment. "But you're right; I don't know how to live an every-day life – I never have. So I'm doing my best."

"And you asked my opinion, and I told you."

"Yes, you did."

"I'm sorry if you don't like it. I just want you to find happiness, Harry."

"You and everyone else on the planet." He sighed. "And that's something that I don't understand, Raven. You want me to be happy, and you want me to be with Draco, but doesn't that kick you out of the situation, ultimately? Or me, really?"

Raven extracted one of her wrists from Harry's grip, running her hand through his hair affectionately. "Don't worry, Harry. Things will work out, however they're meant to."

There was that phrase again. 'Things will work out.' According to how they're supposed to, apparently.

He looked down. "I'm not sure I like the idea of fate, or destiny. In fact, I know I hate them. I've lived with enough of that shit to last me a thousand lifetimes."

Raven smiled, "Your destiny is what you make it, Harry."

"So if things get fucked up, I have only myself to blame?"

"If you want to look at it like that…" Raven joked.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice came from the landing, "Dinner's about ready and Mikhail's been waiting an awfully long time…are you almost ready?"

"Oh! Yeah, Ginny. Yeah, almost. Be down in a minute."

"Alright." And they heard the redhead stepping back down the stairs.

"Okay Mister. Put this on." Raven held out the shirt again.

Harry shucked off his grey t-shirt with out a second thought, taking the dress shirt from Raven and slipping it over his shoulders and buttoning it up.

Raven nodded approvingly. "Not bad, Mr. Potter." She reached to adjust the collar and shoulders. "Where'd you pick this one up?"

"Ginny managed to grab it when she went to China for her summer exchange last year."

"Hmm. The little Weasel has good taste. It looks like a normal Muggle dress shirt, but with a standing collar."

Harry looked at her oddly. "You know a lot about Muggle clothing?"

The girl shrugged, as if to half-agree with Harry's question. "Who doesn't these days?"

"A majority of the Wizarding World?"

"Only the old codgers and the conservative Purebloods. After the war, it seemed pointless to not at least _understand_ Muggles and their customs a little bit. Besides, their clothing is actually more freeing than most of our heavy robes."

"True. But at least my robes fit me. When I was at Hogwarts, I mean. Before I bought my own clothes."

"Yes. Well, let's see what we can't do to those unruly locks of yours, hm?" She moved behind him and steered him to the dresser above which was his only mirror. Reaching around from behind, she attempted to sweep his fringe off to the side, where, of course, it didn't stay. Huffing under her breath, Raven came back around to face Harry, carelessly twitching his hair from side to side, trying to get it to do _something._ Finally she gave up, saying, "I'm sorry Harry; it just doesn't want to work with me. Especially if you won't let me put anything in it. But no matter what anyone else says, I still think your messy hair is one of your boyishly handsome charms. And to Mikhail, I'm sure it looks like you just got off your broom," she finished, winking.

Harry rolled his eyes before turning to his reflection and fiddling with his hair some more. "I look like a bloody porcupine."

"But a boyishly handsome porcupine," Raven retorted, turning to look for her things. Something hanging on the corner of Harry's mirror caught her eye, and she moved forward to inspect it. "What's this?" she asked, fingering the jade amulet, which had a black symbol of some kind branded into it, and was strung up with tiny black translucent stones; flat on one side, and sharp on the other; like someone had filed down one side of the pointy rock to sit against the skin without discomfort.

"Again, Ginny. Found it in China at some little merchant shop, she said. The Chinese character on it's supposed to mean 'luck' I think."

"Well, I think you should wear it," said Raven, taking it from the mirror and unclasping it.

"What? No, I don't really wear jewellery, Raven. I don't even know why Ginny bought it for me."

"Don't be silly. It'll look fine. It accents your eyes, and the shirt." She moved behind him and looped it around his neck, clasping it in the back. "There! Perfect. I think you're ready, Mr. Potter," Raven grinned, looking at his reflection over his shoulder before turning and grabbing her books, stuffing them in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

Harry wrinkled his nose. The amulet hung almost like a choker on his throat, but loose enough to dip into the hollow between his collarbones, right where the break in the collar of the shirt was. Raven was right, though. It didn't look bad.

"Thanks, Raven."

She stepped over to him and ruffled his hair more. "Any time, love."

Harry had that near irresistible urge to kiss her again, like he did those times in her room, and on her porch, which felt like more than a lifetime ago. But Harry really wasn't worried about what Draco would think now, so he went ahead and gave into the urge a little, leaning forward to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Pulling back, he saw that Raven's eyebrows were raised in a look that said, 'What was that for?'

Shrugging at the unasked question, he explained, "Just because."

A smile quirked up the side of Raven's mouth, and she twisted to slip her shoes on before going downstairs without a word.

Looking at his reflection one last time, Harry smiled. "Alright, Harry. Time to finally greet your boyfriend."

* * *

Ron Weasley went downstairs like a dutiful best friend, on the mission to make Mikhail Chaikovsky feel at home while Harry fretted and panicked and primped upstairs. Just the thought made him snicker. 

He couldn't remember a time when the Quidditch Captain was ever in one of the dormitories, so after saying, 'Hey, Capt'n!', he went about ushering the older man into the lounge and onto the couch, offering him something to drink.

"Water's fine, Ron, thanks."

"Harry'll be down in a minute, Capt'n. He said you're early."

"Just thought I'd surprise him," Mikhail said with a smile.

"You did, believe me. He's finishing up a study-session with Raven."

"Raven?" asked Mikhail.

"Yeah, Malfoy's girl. I think." And Ron left the room with a strange satisfaction at seeing the man's eyebrows raise.

Entering the kitchen, Ron was engulfed in the flurry of motion that was the girls preparing dinner and dessert for the "Big Dinner Date", as they so dubbed it.

"Ron, what do you need? You're going to get in the way," said Hermione at a mile a minute, huffing around him as she moved from one corner of the small room to the other, doing god-knows-what.

"I need a glass of water for Mikhail-"

There was an empty glass in his hand and a push to the sink with a demand to be quick before he even had the chance to breathe. Rolling his eyes and grumbling under his breath, he got the water and quickly got out of the kitchen, thanking Merlin that he made it out alive.

Casting a cooling charm on the glass to make it a bit colder, Ron handed the water over to his Captain, sitting down in the chair next to the couch.

"So…" Ron started, tapping his fingers on the armrests.

"So." Mikhail parroted, taking a sip of water. "Er…does Harry think he needs to get all dressed up for me?" he finally asked, glancing down at his own casual dress robes.

Ron looked at his own Weasley jumper and jeans. "I'm not sure. I think he wants to impress you or something."

"Like I haven't seen him naked before," Mikhail muttered into his water glass. At Ron's raised eyebrow, Mikhail clarified, "In the Quidditch showers."

Ron blushed a little and chuckled. "It's alright. He sorta told me about last night."

"Oh. Well." A few more awkward minutes passed before Mikhail asked, "So, Ron, what are your Quidditch plans? You've come a very long way as Keeper. I'd be happy to put in a good word for you, if you'd like. I'm not ever sure what you're studying."

Ron's eyes lit up at the mention of Professional Quidditch, but he replied, "Just trying to pass my N.E.W.T.s at this point, Captain. I'm fairly good at strategy, although I'm not sure how to really apply that without a war on."

"Yes, I heard you did quite a bit of help strategising during the war. And you could still apply it to Quidditch, Ron. Or any number of politics. Even law. I could put a word out to my Father. He could probably afford to give someone an internship."

"Law? Hmm…I never thought about that. I _have_ kind of always wanted to play Pro-Quidditch."

"Well, think about it. Either way, I'd be willing to lend a hand."

"Thanks, Captain."

"You _can_ call me Mikhail, Ron." Mikhail said, smiling.

Ron nodded. "Right."

The front door opened, and Ron and Mikhail turned to see Seamus and Neville come through the door. They exchanged "hello's" before Neville went upstairs to drop off his school things and Seamus tried to enter the kitchen, saying loudly, "Mmm…what smells so damn tasty? Can I have some?"

A very short moment later there was a startled yelp, and Seamus walked into the lounge, rubbing his arm, complaining. "Merlin, Ron, your sister nearly hexed my arm off! Bloody redheads…"

"Well, that's what you get, trying to ruin the 'Big Dinner Date'," Ron explained.

"Eh?" replied Seamus, settling himself on the opposite side of the couch from Mikhail as Neville entered back into the room.

"Harry's big dinner date with the Captain here."

Seamus raised his eyebrows at the Russian before saying, "But what about us? What are _we_ going to eat?"

"The food's for _all_ of us, git."

"Oh." Seamus rubbed absently at his arm again.

"Are Owen, Dennis and Kevin coming?" asked Neville, leaning over the couch.

"As far as I know," Ron replied. "Though Owen might be working at Cel's tonight."

Ginny glided into the room then, a healthy flush to her cheeks. "Evening, boys. Dinner's nearly ready." She cast a quick stern glance at her boyfriend, who avoided her gaze and shied slightly away. "Where's Harry?"

"Still upstairs, getting ready."

Rolling her eyes with the rest of them, she left the room to announce dinner's near completion to 'The Boy Who Preened'.

Ron, satisfied in his world of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw happiness, smiled and started a Quidditch discussion with Mikhail, including Neville and Seamus as the discussion became a semi-heated debate.

* * *

Harry moved down the turn in the stairs to see his dorm mates moving from the lounge to the kitchen. "Hiya Harry!" said Ron, stopping at the bottom of the staircase to watch his friend come down. 

Harry wiped his hands on his jeans. "Hey. Where's Mikhail?"

"Right here, babe," Mikhail said, stepping up into the foyer beside Ron. He was wearing casual dress robes – a high-collared navy waistcoat unbuttoned over a white shirt, blue jeans, and a black, short, outer-robe to finish the ensemble. He gazed at Harry intensely, sweeping his eyes up and down.

Harry fidgeted under the gaze. "Hey, Mikhail." He stopped two steps from the bottom, realising that he was at about eye-level to his boyfriend. Seeing his dark brown eyes trained on him, some of Raven's words rushed back to him.

"…_Mikhail will never understand you that way…you should be with someone you're comfortable with…you're too afraid to see if Mikhail will still want to be with you if you tell him the truth…"_

_I'm _not_ afraid._

Harry smiled, reaching out to put his hands on Mikhail's shoulders. "Do I look okay?"

Mikhail put his arms around Harry's waist and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. "Always."

Temporarily forgetting Ron was in the room, Harry kissed Mikhail again, quite passionately, even slipping a little tongue in, and quite content to keep on doing so for the next little while, but Mikhail finally pulled away for air, breathing a little hard.

"Sorry," Harry murmured sheepishly.

"No complaints here," Mikhail replied.

"Well, as interesting as it was watching my best friend snog his boyfriend – _yuck_ – I think it's time to go eat. The girl's have done some mighty magic for you tonight, Harry."

"Mmm, it sure smells good," said Mikhail, stepping away from the stairs to let Harry down, arm still around his waist.

"Is it really that gross to watch two guys kissing?" Harry asked Ron, totally bypassing the current topic.

Mikhail laughed, guiding Harry to the dining room behind Ron. Ron rolled his eyes and said, "Actually, it's a bit fascinating, since I've never seen it before, but what I meant was that I had to watch _you_ snog your boyfriend."

Harry thought on the times he caught Ron and Hermione snogging when they thought no one was around. "Er, yeah. I see what you mean."

"Who means what?" Seamus asked as they entered the room, taking their places around the table, which was stocked with several kidney pies, various vegetable dishes, and Yorkshire pudding.

"Not important," said Ron, immediately helping himself to two kidney pies. "Mmm… 'Mione, I love that I'm marrying you."

"And what are we, chopped liver?" Ginny asked, gesturing to her and Luna.

"You didn't put liver in this, did you?"

Ginny huffed in exasperation. "Whatever."

"Hi, Mikhail," Hermione greeted. There was a round of 'hellos' for Harry as he sat down between Mikhail and Ron.

"Where's the younger half?" Harry asked, helping himself to some food.

"Don't know," said Neville. "Owen's probably at work."

"'The younger half'?" Mikhail asked.

"Oh, that's what we call the three younger guys in our dorm. Dennis and Kevin are…what? Three years younger than us? And Owen's only two, I think." Harry explained.

"No, Owen's the same age as Dennis and Kevin," Ginny corrected. "Kevin and Owen were Hufflepuffs, and Dennis was a Gryffindor," she said to Mikhail, who nodded.

"I'm not sure Mikhail would know any of them from Hogwarts," Harry said. "He graduated before they even started school."

"How old are you, mate?" Ron managed around a stuffed mouth.

"Twenty-eight."

"Merlin! You're nearly thirty!" Seamus exclaimed shamelessly.

"_Seamus_!" Harry and Ginny hissed.

"Thanks for reminding me, Seamus," Mikhail joked. "It's alright, Harry. I know I'm getting old." He stretched and groaned as if his bones were creaking, putting an arm around the back of Harry's chair as he did so.

"No, you're not. Wizards easily live to be over a hundred," Harry replied, kissing Mikhail on the cheek.

"Your sweetness will ruin dessert," Luna dreamily pointed out.

"Sorry." Harry blushed, feeling very much like a silly school girl.

"So, Mikhail," started Seamus, shovelling food into his mouth, "When'd you notice Harry, here?"

"If you say in the Quidditch showers, I _will_ have to regurgitate my dinner," Ron clarified.

Harry choked a bit on his kidney pie, coughing roughly and trying his best to gulp down some water. Everyone else (minus Seamus and Luna) regarded Ron's comment with some form disgust or exasperation.

"Are you _trying_ to kill me, Ron? _Merlin_." Harry coughed in his napkin one more time, while Mikhail patted his back consolingly.

"I'm not really sure when I did," Mikhail answered, looking back to Seamus. "I mean, I know I stared for a while at first, just because I had _The Boy Who Lived_ on my Quidditch team, and it was a little odd to look at the defeater of Voldemort and think that he'd actually done it; saved Wizarding life as we knew it."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "I wasn't the only one who fought in the war. We all did."

Mikhail nodded. "I know that, Harry. I just felt kind of in awe for a while, though I'm sure it never showed. I don't believe in playing favourites."

"As I've noticed at practice this last week. Even though you're putting Draco in the line-up, you certainly haven't let up on me any."

"And I don't intend to," Mikhail chuckled. "And…we'll still see about Malfoy." He ignored Harry's oblong look, and didn't notice the raised eyebrows of Hermione and Ron. "So, Seamus, to continue my answer, I saw Harry nearly every day, and yes, Ron, even in the showers, but I didn't gawk at him or anything. I just got to know him through the team, and I noticed he never seemed to have any girlfriends, and thought perhaps that he might be gay, and…I don't know, I fell for him, I guess." Mikhail gave a soft look to his right, where Harry was sitting.

Ginny made a little cooing sound in her throat, while the guys all looked a little bewildered, Luna gazed serenely, and Hermione watched Mikhail and Harry carefully, looking for definitive signs that things were going to turn the 'good' way or the 'bad' way.

Harry himself was feeling a little hot under the collar, and wasn't sure if the feeling in his chest was the good sort of sweet pain, or the bad sort of scary pain. He stared back at Mikhail in a bit of shock, which was thankfully interrupted by the arrival of his three missing roommates for dinner.

"Hey guys!" Kevin greeted from the foyer, dropping his stuff and rushing into the dining area, followed closely by Owen and Dennis. "What's for dinner? It smells _really_ good!"

"Thanks," the girls said in unison, right before Hermione conjured up three more place settings and an extra chair to replace the one Mikhail was sitting on.

"We thought you were working tonight, Owen," Neville said.

"No, thankfully. But I was in the Library researching for that damn Herbology project that's half our grade."

"If you need any help, let me know," Neville offered.

"Thanks, I probably will." And they all chuckled, resuming dinner and conversation.

* * *

They finished dinner with a wonderful Olde English Trifle for dessert, and bellies so full they could barely move from their places at the table. Eventually, as everyone started moving again, and started to help clean up, Hermione shooed Harry and Mikhail away, telling them to go have some 'alone time' while everyone else finished cleaning. 

Harry led Mikhail up the stairs by the hand, muttering about crazy friends and their meddling. Mikhail only chuckled at him, following him dutifully into his room.

Harry quickly darted around, picking up his discarded t-shirt and random pilings of books and papers from the bed and floor, throwing them atop his desk haphazardly. Turning, he said sheepishly, "Sorry I didn't clean for you."

Mikhail just smiled and shook his head, going to Harry and giving him a warm hug. "It's okay. I did sort of turn up a bit early."

The shorter man returned the embrace. "Yeah, I'm sorry about keeping you waiting. I was talking with Ron and Raven when you arrived."

"Ron mentioned Raven, and I think I missed her leaving with all the guys in the lounge. He said she was Malfoy's girl?"

"Yeah. They've liked each other for several years, apparently, but only got together recently. They're sorta in a weird spot right now, I think." He shook his head against Mikhail's chest. "I don't really know. I'm getting different messages from both of them."

"Sorry to hear that."

Harry shrugged. "I'll help them if I can. It's a little complicated."

"Well, they've got to stand on their own feet without you holding their hands, Harry. Don't let them depend on you."

_Too late._ Harry thought. He said out loud, "I know, Mik. I know."

Mikhail kissed the top of Harry's head, pulling them towards the bed. They sat down next to each other while Mikhail kicked of his shoes. Then he shrugged out of his robe and tossed it towards Harry's trunk. Shifting back onto the bed, he lied down, gesturing for Harry to follow.

Harry settled into the crook of Mikhail's arm, leaning his head on his shoulder, and throwing an arm over Mikhail's waist. They lay like that for several moments, just relaxing in the post-dinner-filled haze, enjoying the other's silent company.

Eventually, Harry broke the silence. "Mik?"

"Yeah?"

"When... How…" he stumbled, "When did you first think you might be gay?"

Mikhail was silent for a moment before answering. "Looking back on it, it feels like I always knew, but I liked a few girls, even dated two before I finally realised I _really_ liked them as people, but I just wasn't sexually attracted to them. My mate, Jason, he really helped me through it, actually. I think I managed to get a crush on him for a little while, before realising that he really was just my best friend, and that it was just sincere gratitude that made my emotions go a little haywire around him."

"It's good to have friends that support you. Did Jason ever feel awkward around you, do you know?"

Mikhail shrugged. "I don't think so. I think he might have known before I did, actually. He could tell that I would get a little uncomfortable when the other guys in our dorm or in the locker rooms would talk about sex and their girlfriends and then ask me how me and my current girlfriend were, and I didn't really know what to say. When they would start joking about sex, and making crude gestures, or describing it, I noticed after a while that the thought of actually going farther than kissing my girlfriend made me feel really queasy. And then I started noticing some of the guys, and caught a dorm mate jerking off, and that was it. I knew I wanted to be with men."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen." Mikhail kissed Harry's hair. "Did I really freak you out when I kissed you that time on your porch?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, sort of. I had kind of been noticing guys too-" _Only one, you liar._ A voice in his head spoke up._ And you _more_ than noticed him later-_ "-and when you kissed me, I hadn't even wondered or known if you were gay. So I sort of panicked, because I wasn't sure how I felt about it, I guess."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to startle you. I really did think you were at least bi."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." Harry pushed up onto his elbow, smiling. "I'm all figured out, now."

Mikhail raised his eyebrows. "Are you?" he asked, semi-mocking.

Harry nodded. "Oh yes." He kissed Mikhail. "All…figured…out." he said between kisses.

_Liar._

Harry ignored the voice, because he was becoming more engaged in what his boyfriend was doing with his tongue, and couldn't be bothered at that moment.

Mikhail pulled Harry on top of him, wrapping his arms securely around the Seeker's shoulders. Harry slid his body against Mikhail's, pushing his knee between Mikhail's to put pressure on his groin. Mikhail moaned beautifully into Harry's mouth, relaxing his hold on the man's shoulders so he could lay back and breathe.

"Harry-" he gasped out.

"Yeah?" Harry managed between breaths.

"Harry, I need to tell you something."

"Okay, go ahead."

Mikhail cupped Harry's face. "I want you to know that I understand if you…if you need to slow down. We'll go at _your_ pace, okay? I really like you, Harry. I don't want to pressure you into anything you're not _absolutely sure_ you're ready for."

Mikhail's very apparent and sincere worry is what made Harry pause. _What does he think the cause of my problem is, I wonder?_ He nodded. "Alright. But I'm fine. Really."

_Liar._

Harry ignored the voice a third time, kissing Mikhail to block it out. They continued their meeting of lips and tongues, and Harry started pushing at Mikhail's waistcoat.

"Off, off," he pleaded quietly against Mikhail's lips. He was desperate to block out that voice; that voice was condemning him, reminding him that his demons were still haunting him, that he still couldn't be normal. That he still couldn't have a boyfriend without something being fucked up about it.

Mikhail sat up, making Harry sit back on his haunches, pulling his waistcoat off of his shoulders and tossing it aside. Harry worked on the buttons of Mikhail's shirt, pushing and pushing to get naked as fast as possible.

He didn't know why; he thought perhaps that if he could just not think; if he could just keep pushing; that he'd stop that voice, push it away, and everything would be fine.

The shirt was tossed aside, and then Harry tried frantically to get his own off, but the buttons kept slipping. "Shh, shh…let me try," whispered his Captain, and gentle hands pushed his aside and worked the buttons easily through their holes, sliding the silky material down Harry's shoulders to pool around his waist.

Harry hummed; dropping back his head and feeling the necklace around his neck tighten and dig slightly into his skin, as well as Mikhail's lips trailing soft kisses along his jaw and down his throat.

"Mmm…what's this?" Mikhail mumbled, reaching the sharp stones of the necklace, nipping them with his lips.

"A necklace…that Ginny got me in China."

Mikhail pulled back and fingered the jade amulet. "What does the symbol mean?"

"I think it means 'luck'. At least that's what Ginny said." Harry shifted his weight upon Mikhail's lap.

The Captain made a pleasant noise in the back of his throat, pulling Harry a bit closer. "It's very pretty. Is it alright if I take it off?"

Harry stilled. "Why?"

"Well, because I'd like to kiss you there, and it's in the way."

"Hmm…I kinda like having it on. Leave it, please?"

Mikhail nuzzled Harry's neck. "Oh, alright…" he murmured, and continued his ministrations of Harry's neck.

Harry clutched to Mikhail's shoulders, finding pleasure in the searing sweetness of their hot skin pressed together. He wanted that weight again, of feeling someone on top of him, so he shifted his weight to the right, twisting and pulling Mikhail along with him.

They moved and slid; Harry pulled Mikhail's head back up to bruise his mouth with a kiss, arching up his back to feel closer, to feel anything, other than the lingering sourness that his conscience had left in his mind.

As Mikhail's hand wandered and travelled over Harry's body, it started searing in a way that burned and bubbled and felt like insects crawling under his skin, and all Harry could think about was 'Why now? Why at all? It feels _good_, dammit, it always has. Why does something always have to ruin it?'

_Because you still feel guilty,_ the voice reminded him. _Yet you cannot bring yourself to come clean. You are living lies, Harry Potter. Lies that you cannot ignore much longer._

The voice had changed, becoming something foreign, which Harry couldn't tell was better or worse to be shown the truth by; rather than by one's own self.

Just as Harry's mental focus tuned back in to the physical world, Mikhail started undoing the buttons on Harry's jeans, and Harry reacted immediately, pushing Mikhail away at the shoulders, muttering, "No, I'm sorry. Stop. I'm sorry."

Harry pushed Mikhail enough to manoeuvre out from under him and sit up on the edge of the bed, breathing hard and trying not to sob. Holding a hand to his head and another to his mouth, Harry fought to regain control of himself.

Harry didn't see Mikhail's flash of frustration, or his realisation, or his utter horror at himself for pushing again.

"Harry…" he said softly.

"No... No, Mikhail, it's not you. It's me," Harry's voice choked out. "Something's wrong with me."

"_No,_ Harry. Nothing's wrong with you." Mikhail shifted so that he could gently place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I pushed again, and I'm sorry."

"No, Mikhail. You didn't push. Really, you weren't pushing."

"I told you we'd go at your pace-"

"And we _were_." Harry took a shuddering breath, shivering under Mikhail's touch.

"Harry?"

"Y-yes?"

"Can I…can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I'd like to know the answer."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

"Were you…abused as a child?"

The question startled Harry and he jumped, turning around swiftly to look Mikhail incredulously in the eye. "_What_? No! Of course not!"

Mikhail's face only grew graver. "Are you sure you're not just lying to yourself? That you haven't repressed it or something?"

"_Yes._ I'm quite sure I would remember being abused."

"Malfoy said otherwise."

"What? What did Draco say?"

"I think his exact words were: 'I wouldn't say Harry was abused. At least not…sexually.'" Mikhail paused. "Are you sure there's not something you should tell me, Harry?"

Harry pursed his lips, scowling. "My aunt and uncle were bastards, alright? I slept in a cupboard under the stairs, and they made me do all the chores while my stupid, fat, fucking _useless_ cousin Dudley got presents and got to eat whatever he could stuff into his goddamn mouth. I was manhandled a few times, and thought of as a hooligan and beaten up by my cousin and his friends. Before and even after I knew I was a wizard, my wandless magic would act up, and I would get in trouble; sometimes not allowed meals for several days. That's what Draco was talking about. And don't feel pity for me. I've had enough of it, thank you."

There was a very heavy pause as Mikhail seemed to absorb that information. Very quietly, so it seemed as no more than a breath, "I don't feel pity. I'm just sad that it had to happen to you."

"Why? I wouldn't be who I am now if not for my experiences, Mikhail." Harry turned his back and sighed. "My relatives aren't why I keep withdrawing from you. All I do is hate them. And pity their sorry existence. They're the worst sort of Muggles. It saddens me when people like them prove the conservative Purebloods right; because there are so many better people in the world besides the Dursleys."

"Then why _do_ you keep withdrawing from me, Harry? Please, help me understand."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure myself, Mikhail. I _like_ what we're doing, I really do. It's not something I've really had." He turned to look at Mikhail again. "And, I really like you. But when something happens between us, I just…it starts feeling weird. Things will be fine – I'll be totally into it, like last night – and then my mind just starts protesting. And then I just need to back away; clear my head."

"Harry," Mikhail started, "it sounds like you were hurt, and don't remember it. Like your brain is programmed to tell you that feeling good or doing those things is wrong; but you don't remember why."

Harry shook his head more firmly this time. "No, Mikhail. I _know_ that that's not it. Maybe I... I know it's stupid to think of it now, but maybe it's because you're a guy. I mean – shit, I don't mean that the way it sounds. I just…I was never with a girl, you know? And until two weeks ago, I'd never thought of guys as an option. Maybe I'm still not comfortable with it."

_Lies again, Harry. Though that may indeed be part of your indecisiveness, you _know_ the true reason for not letting yourself go when you__'re with Mikhail Chaikovsky. It is not that he is male._

_GODDAMMIT, SHUT UP!_ Harry screamed in his head, so angry that he had to look away for a moment and clamp down hard on his instinct to lash out, so that he wouldn't hurt Mikhail. Not to mention set something on fire. He decided to ignore the slight rattle of a sconce on his wall above the bed.

Once Harry looked back up, Mikhail closed his eyes and nodded resolutely. "That could be entirely true, Harry. How about…we step back. Go out with friends, or not be alone for long periods of time. Or if we are, do it in public, like at Celestine's. Only kiss. Maybe not even that, if you think it'll lead to too much." He looked into Harry's very green eyes. "I want you to be, and _you_ _need_ to be completely comfortable with us. With me. I won't hurt you, Harry. We need to trust each other, because being open in that way with someone isn't easy."

Harry smiled slightly. "I take it you're speaking from experience?"

Mikhail shrugged. "Perhaps. But regardless of how quickly things went in the past, and how much we enjoyed it, you obviously were having a hard time processing that it happened. That it could continue to happen between us." He reached forward and took one of Harry's hands, twining their fingers. "I want to make you happy, Harry. I wasn't so totally blind as to not notice how your demeanour has changed this year. You're happier." He smiled. "And I want to keep you that way. You're beautiful when you smile."

Harry's face burned in a way that was not unpleasant, but rather, embarrassing. "Mikhail, you do know that you have _got_ to be the soggiest bloke I know, right?"

Mikhail smiled. "I try."

"No you don't."

Mikhail leaned forward, an inch before Harry's face. "No, I don't." And they kissed.

Pulling away, Harry said solemnly, "I really wish I could give you a better answer as to why… Or, better yet, just keep pushing at myself, ignoring whatever it is, so I can just be _normal_. I want that, and I still can't seem to have it."

Mikhail studied Harry. "Perhaps…you never will. And that is your fate."

Harry scowled. "Fate can jump off the fucking cliff behind the library, thank-you-very-much."

Mikhail cupped Harry's face. "You _are_ special, Harry. Nothing will change that. Not even the extinction of fate."

Sighing deeply, Harry leaned into Mikhail, burying his face in his shoulder. "You're too old and wise for me."

Mikhail laughed. "Oh? _Now_ I'm old?"

Harry chuckled, raising his head. "No, you're not really. You just seem so much older than me sometimes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not particularly. I know you can keep up. You _are_ Captain, after all."

Mikhail caught Harry in his arms. "_Your_ Captain?"

"Mmm…maybe." They kissed. "Would you be willing to just lie with me again?"

"Can we get naked again?" Mikhail said suggestively, immediately receiving a look from Harry. "Okay, okay, I know. Bad humour."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, it's alright. I'll figure it out eventually. But for now, this is good."

"Good."

Lying there for several hours with Mikhail, Harry was happy to find that blasted voice gone from his mind, and even though the fact of his deceit still weighed on his thoughts, he was able to ignore it for a time, and let himself enjoy feeling as normal as he could.

* * *

_**A/N:** Okay! So...my story has been changing on me, in some way or another, almost every single time I sit down to write. I've had to re-think my ending recently, and now need to plan out the chapters better than I had (though, truthfully, a lot of the time I had a vague idea, then started flying by the seat of my pants), so until I'm **absolutely positive** where all of my chapters are going, I won't be writing the next one, though I know exactly how that one's going to go. I have the muse back, for the time being, so hopefully she'll stay with me a bit longer this time, but I do warn you, I am in my second to last quarter before graduation, and in RL, that's just a **tad **more important than fanfiction, as much as I love it. I will do my best to finish planning the chapters, so I can get back on track with the story. I honestly can't say how long it will be (but at least there's not cliffhanger this time!), but I will try my hardest not to take so long. I still can't thank you all enough for being so patient._

_For all of those that reviewed the last chapter, I will be responding to you probably before you even get the update e-mail!_

_Oh, and a very happy twenty-third birthday to me! I'm posting this at 12:32 am on 03 May, technically exactly five hours before I was acutally born, but whatever. Hmm...it's weird to be teetering on the feeling of being too old to really be a kid, while still not feeling like a day over eighteen. But _thank god_ that's all over. I'm glad that part of my life is long gone. On to bigger and better things. I suppose the feeling has something to do with a looming graduation, and therefore, the expectation to get more than a part-time job and start paying off my school loans. When will I get to England, again?_

_lol. I'm crazy. And I love you all. Ciao! _


	22. Bumps in the Road

_**Chapter Notes:** Alrighty! I got this out MUCH faster than I anticipated, yay! I'm not sure how long it'll be until the next chapter, but I've already started work on it. I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you enjoy it!_

_Many profuse thanks go out to **Michelle **and **IcyAurora8**, my betas! They actually caught more grammar mistakes than I'm used to making! I wonder where my head was... _

_**NOTE: This chapter has an NC-17 version at my website. **Please visit my userpage to get the link there. **If you read my story on my site, and like to review, please either e-mail me directly, or come back here to review. I'll get it, I promise. **Also, if you'd like first updates on what's going on in the fanfiction department of my life, sign up for my mailing list! I won't spam you, I promise! I usually write something about once a month, and I'm the only one who can write, so there aren't tons of emails like in YahooGroups._

_If you're waiting for a reply to your previous review, just give me a few days. I'll be working on them today and tomorrow. Thanks!_

_I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

**

* * *

Chapter XXI - Bumps in the Road

* * *

**

Ronald Bilius Weasley had spent the previous night, after a wonderful dinner, musing to himself as Hermione dozed peacefully by his side; exhausted by the flurry of making a meal for eight very hungry men and three young women, and stuffing herself full with said meal.

They had gone upstairs to spend some time together, feeling nothing more than the need to be near each other. Neville politely grabbed his things before escorting Luna home for some alone time of their own, and Seamus and Ginny had curled up in the lounge, obviously made up and watching contently as Owen, Kevin and Dennis tried to beat each other at Exploding Snap.

Ron had placed a gentle kiss in Hermione's hair, and she murmured sleepily and settled down again. Absently stroking his fiancée's hair, Ron had mused about the night's events. He wasn't stupid; he'd seen his captain's adoration for his best friend, and his uneasy aloofness when Malfoy was mentioned. Ron had almost liked the idea – here was someone who would share his feelings on the matter of the stupid little ferret – Mikhail was clearly jealous of Harry and Malfoy's strange friendship; which meant he cared a great deal about Harry. And Ron knew _all_ about jealousy. He was a master at it…and covering it up.

So, he told himself, the reason he was currently heading around the cobblestone path on a dreary cold Sunday to Number Three was purely to gloat. Ron had some bragging rights, after all – he _told_ Harry that Malfoy was no good for him – and currently, Harry and Mikhail seemed to be sailing along _just fine_, if he did say so himself. And Ron knew that Harry wouldn't parade around his happiness in front of Malfoy (the poor boy still had _feelings_ for the bloody albino), so Ron felt it was his duty as "Malfoy-Irritator" to do the job for his friend.

Besides, even though it _was_ a terrible thing to do (and Ron _had_ promised to be more civil, and at least acknowledge Malfoy's changes of character), the look on that pointy face when Ron told him that Mikhail spent the night would be _priceless_.

Ron almost cackled.

It was nearly noon, but the sky was dark with heavy grey clouds; drizzling water like the concept of the Earth being dry every once and a while was horrifying. A bit of a light wind whipped in from the sea, bringing the tinge of salt to the air. Ron loved living by the sea; it felt so much more freeing than the cramped homeliness of the Burrow. And, as much as he missed all of his family, he was happy to be out on his own, as well. Pretty soon, he and Hermione would be living in a flat in London; together, married, and all on their own. It was terrifyingly exciting.

Stomping up the uneven wooden steps of the dormitory cottage, Ron planted a self-satisfied – or would-be satisfied in a few minutes – grin on his face and knocked on the door.

Zabini opened the door, and immediately, there was a scowl on his face. "Weasley."

"Zabini."

"Are you going to tell me why the hell you're here, or are you just going to stand there? Come to study with an unsuspecting Ravenclaw?"

"You sure are snappy. What's with all the hostility? I'm just coming over to have a word with Malfoy."

Zabini cocked an eyebrow. "Does he know you're coming?"

"No, but do you normally take his appointments?"

Rolling his eyes, Zabini replied, "Looks like you found some wit since Hogwarts." He stepped back and gestured upstairs with his head. "He's upstairs, in his room."

"He has the dorm rep room, right?" Ron confirmed as he stepped past the threshold.

"Yes, he's our dorm representative, though it's not like they've ever met."

"What's there to meet about? We _do_ manage to all get along now, don't we?" Ron turned and headed up the stairs.

"Indeed." Zabini cocked his head.

He was pleased to see that Malfoy's door was open, so he walked right up to the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb.

Malfoy looked up through his fringe from the book he was reading. "Weasley, I don't remember inviting _you_ over. What do you want?" Malfoy said in a flat tone.

"You. Are. An. Idiot." Ron said wistfully.

Malfoy's blank and pointed expression didn't change. "And what, pray tell, led you to that rather biased and fictitious conclusion?"

"You let Harry go, for one. But I'm sure you know that I'm actually happy about that. He and Mikhail are getting on quite famously. You were an idiot to let such an unbelievably brilliant bloke go."

"But, like you just unnecessarily reminded me, you're pleased with that. Now, is there a point to your inane drivel?"

Ron didn't let Malfoy's subtle insults bother him. "Because as much as I'm pleased with it and with how happy Harry seems to be with Mikhail, I also know that he misses you. He cares about you, for some strange reason, and I'm here to make sure you don't fuck things up. For both of you."

Malfoy shifted, sitting up straighter. "Weasley, you are making absolutely no sense."

"Mikhail doesn't like you."

"I know that."

"So, watch out for him. Don't let him come between you and Harry. Harry would be too torn if he had to choose between his boyfriend and you. He really likes Mikhail."

"Well, good for him. And don't worry your freckled red head about it. I can handle Chaikovsky."

"Look, Harry cares for you almost more than he's willing to admit; and I don't want anything to continue making him unhappy."

"I thought you just said he _was_ happy. You contradict yourself."

"Okay, let me amend. He's happy to a point. His feelings for you fuck that up."

"Again, no sense, Weasley. If I'm ultimately what's fucking things up, then why do you want me around? Or do you? Not that I really give a shit, and not that I'll bother to listen, but what exactly are you trying to tell me?"

"Stay around. Just…don't let Harry fall for you, Malfoy. He could have a real chance with Mikhail; as soon as your fucked-up sudden dumping of him stops upsetting him." Ron sighed, suddenly unsure just _why_ he _had_ come over. "You make Harry happy somehow, Malfoy. He needs you somehow. Just don't fuck it up."

Malfoy studied Ron for a moment. "That bothers you, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"That Harry needs me. You feel like he's replaced you."

Ron glared. "No, I don't, actually. My relationship with Harry is _far_ different than yours. It's built off more than a reconciled enmity. We trust each other, and we're there for each other no matter what. We're not afraid that one of us will leave the other for another best friend. If you want to play mind games with him, then I suggest you put Harry straight so you can both go your separate ways."

Malfoy turned back to his book. "Thanks for letting me know. Now, will you get the hell out of my room?"

"You don't believe me, do you? That Harry's happy with Mikhail. You think that it won't work out, don't you?"

"What I think or want or believe is irrelevant. Believe what you want, Weasley. I answer to no one but myself."

"Mikhail stayed over last night. Did you know that they had a nice big dinner with everyone? Only a week and they're spending the night with each other." Yes, that was more like it, Ron thought. Focus on irritating Malfoy.

Malfoy set his book down. "Oh? So that equates to happiness now?"

"Well, if they didn't like each other a whole lot, then they wouldn't spend the night together, would they?"

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. The only change in expression since Ron had arrived. "You might want to re-confirm that with Harry, Weasley. It seems your intuition is off."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"That I know more about what happened in that room last night than you do."

"What, did Harry come over or something? He was still asleep when I left…"

"No, he didn't come over. I went over there last night to see if Harry wanted to hang out. Since I saw his candles were lit, I levitated myself up to his room to get his attention. I saw quite a bit of what happened, including that Harry pushed Mikhail away just as soon as things were getting heated. I'm assuming that Mikhail didn't leave because they fell asleep in each other's arms; Harry practically crying on his shoulder. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important research to do, and you're wasting my time." He picked up his book again.

Ron was livid and shocked nearly speechless. But not entirely speechless. "You _spied_ on Harry? You _asshole_!"

"I wasn't _intending _to, Weasley. It just sort of happened. So, either Mikhail's going too fast for him – which I've already talked to _both _of them about, by the way – or, something's going on that Harry won't tell us about. Or me, at least. Now, it's none of my business what really happened last night, unless Harry wishes to come and talk to me about it. I suggest you think the same. Now leave."

Ron stormed for a few moments, lost at what to do. Finally, with a huff and an unnoticed glare at Malfoy, Ron left, feeling particularly pissed at Malfoy and worried about Harry. Had his freezing thing happen again? Why was Malfoy acting so nonchalant? Did he really not care about Harry that much? Fuck, he didn't know. But it was something to mull over.

Because no one else was going to.

* * *

Harry woke with a slight shiver, goose pimples rising on his flesh. He burrowed himself deeper into his…wait a minute…why were his covers heated, heavy, and only on his back? Wiggling slightly and cracking open his eyes, Harry realised very sleepily that he and Mikhail must have fallen asleep at some point last night. Mikhail hummed in his sleep and pulled Harry closer. It was so nice to wake up next to someone, Harry thought. He didn't want it to end. 

"Morning," Harry whispered.

"Mmm, morning, sexy," Mikhail murmured in his ear, kissing the dip of skin behind it.

Harry felt the tips of his ears burn red. "Thanks for the compliment, but you're lying."

"You don't know how crazy you make me, Harry," Mikhail replied.

Choosing to ignore the comment and let the conversation drop, Harry wiggled in the opposite direction, sitting up and shivering again. "It's cold, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

A new flurry of cold air brushed over Harry's shoulders. Turning, Harry spotted his bedside window was opened a crack, allowing the cold October air to creep in. "Gah, how did that get open?" He stood and moved around the bed to close it. "Was it open last night?"

"Not that I remember," said Mikhail. "Now come back to bed. I'll warm you up."

"What time is it?"

"Too early. The sun's barely up."

Harry murmured '_Tempus_', and rolled his eyes as his Snitch-clock told him it was nearly eleven. Kneeling on the bed, he looked down at Mikhail.

_He_ definitely looked sexy in the morning, Harry thought, unsure if he had a good definition of 'sexy'. He looked down at a large expanse of skin that bordered on that fine line between creamy and lightly bronzed; short, dark hair, spiky and flat in amusingly appealing places, and his brown eyes hazy with sleep and something like desire. He looked _hungry_, for obviously something other than food, and Harry wasn't sure if he felt put off by it, or merely stunned.

Mikhail sat up and moved in to kiss him. Harry pulled back slightly, saying, "I've got morning breath."

"Don't care," said Mikhail, moving in again. Harry let it happen, feeling uncertain about where he and Mikhail stood. Didn't Mikhail remember their conversation last night? Weren't they supposed to be backing off? He pulled away. "Mikhail…" he started.

"I know. But I thought I'd get in one last kiss before we abstained for a while." Harry smiled at that. "Do you still feel like you might not be gay? Or bi, I mean?"

Harry looked again at Mikhail's well-muscled torso. "No, I think I'm still attracted to guys."

Mikhail smiled devilishly. "Ah, well that's one thing we don't need to worry about, then."

"Yeah." Harry gave him one more quick kiss. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"Alright. Do you want me to wait around or…?"

"Or join me?" Harry smirked, getting off the bed.

Chuckling, Mikhail said, "Actually, I was going to say 'leave', but if you'd rather save water…"

Harry laughed. "That's fine. You can stay right here, love." Harry grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and a fresh set of clothes from his closet. "Be back in a few."

As he left, Mikhail saw, or thought he saw, a strange flash of bluish-green light on the jade around Harry's neck, followed by silvery lines across Harry's back. _Scars I've never noticed?_

Mikhail lay back, thinking about his boyfriend. It wasn't hard to see how wonderful Harry was. Especially considering all he'd been through. He tried so hard to make sure the people around him were happy and that he didn't burden them with his own problems. Mikhail didn't even want to think about what Harry's family did to him; it made him want to find the sorry bastards and try a few Unforgivables.

Shaking the horrible thoughts from his mind, he heard the shower running and thought other thoughts of Harry. Mikhail really wasn't sure how to define his feelings for the Seeker; he knew some of it was just pure animal magnetism to Harry's spirit—his personality. And quite a bit of it was purely sexual – but Mikhail had never really noticed any of the other members of the Quidditch team, knowing full-well they were all straight. It had been a few years since his last boyfriend, and Harry was the only one that Mikhail had had any real yearning to be with.

Which was why it was so frustrating and so arousing at the same time. Harry tried to give so much; as much as he could, and it only left Mikhail for wanting. Merlin, he could feel the uncomfortable tightness in his trousers, and it didn't have anything to do with the fact that he slept in them last night. He placed a hand over the bulge, and pressed down, using just a little bit of friction. Heat flared in his belly as thoughts of Harry naked in the shower flashed through his mind. Quickly, hoping to be done before Harry came back (and was it okay to jerk off in your boyfriend's bed when he wasn't there?), Mikhail unfastened his trousers and pushed them aside just enough to have room for movement. It didn't take long, and Mikhail was hard and moving fast, twisting his free hand in the duvet and pushing his head back into the pillow.

"Harry-" he panted. _So close. So, so close._ Was Harry doing this too? Jerking off in the shower? The very thought brought Mikhail to his full. "Harry!" he choked out. Air burned his lungs as he breathed heavily, and his hazy post-orgasm vision cleared to see his very real fantasy standing at the foot of the bed.

* * *

Harry stood there, absolutely stunned, yet strangely aroused at the same time. Watching Mikhail touch himself for the last few minutes was _extraordinarily_ embarrassing, and so incredibly _erotic_. He couldn't look away. Hearing his name panted from Mikhail's throat, and watching his bicep flex and his hand moving so slick and fast, and oh god, Harry was going to come in his new, clean pants _right now_, if – and oh Merlin, Mikhail was coming, and oh no, he was looking at Harry… 

"Oh, Merlin, Harry, I didn't think you'd be back…" Mikhail whispered before charming his mess away. "I'm sorry."

Harry blinked. "Sorry? Why are you-" he cleared his throat, "-are you sorry?" Oh, his jeans were feeling awfully uncomfortable, and he was sure it was noticeable. Harry wasn't sure if he'd like to pounce on Mikhail, or pretend he hadn't seen a thing.

Mikhail quickly tucked himself back in his trousers, fastened them back up, and shuffled into a sitting position. "Because I… 'cause I jerked off in your bed…"

Harry swallowed, and tried for some humour to save him from whatever else he was likely to do. "Well, I've done that plenty of times, so it's not like my bed's unfamiliar with the notion." _Bolt or pounce._

Mikhail chuckled uncomfortably before murmuring, embarrassed, "I still feel ashamed."

Harry stared meaningfully at Mikhail. "Don't be." Dropping his dirty towel and clothes, Harry stepped up onto his trunk and up again to his bed. Pulling off his shirt, he dropped to his knees, reaching forward to unfasten Mikhail's trousers again. "I want to give you a blow job. Tell me how to make it better." _Pounce_.

"Harry, you don't have to – I mean, we decided to stop – don't feel obligated just because-"

"Shush. I want to."

"But –"

"Mikhail, I'll stop myself if it becomes too much. I always have before. But I _want_ to do this." Harry leaned forward and kissed Mikhail hard. He pulled away and immediately dropped down, pulling open Mikhail's trousers and pants, exposing his boyfriend. Harry looked at it with interest, the second penis (or third, really), that he had ever taken an interest in. Taking a deep breath, Harry lowered his head and started to give his boyfriend a blowjob.

Mikhail sucked in harsh breaths and Harry continued his ministrations. Mikhail's moans rose and ebbed in waves, urging Harry on with throaty notes and exuberant sighs.

Harry didn't want to, but he pulled away to say, "Am I doing alright?"

Mikhail raised his head and replied breathily, "More than. Keep going. I'll let you know when I'm going to come."

Harry reached up with his free hand and stroked Mikhail's chest as he bent down and resumed his task.

"Oh…yes… Harry… Oh Merlin, don't stop – that feels so good-"

Harry found he was enjoying the taste and the pure act of sucking Mikhail off. It was never an adolescent-fevered fantasy of his, to suck dick, but ever since Raven gave he and Draco that book, and Harry started liking Draco, and then went down on him as well, it was something he was very sure he would always like doing. Mikhail tasted and smelled very good, and Harry couldn't even remember what Draco smelled like.

Mikhail was panting harder now, and Harry was sure he was close. Harry himself was aware of the pre-come stain developing on his own jeans.

"Harry, I'm getting close, I'm going to-"

Harry choked, coughing as Mikhail came in his mouth and it hit the back of his throat and tickled his tonsils. _The same thing happened when I gave Draco a blowjob,_ Harry belatedly remembered. He licked his chin, hand, and cleaned Mikhail. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at his boyfriend, who was lying there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. His cheeks, neck and chest were flushed pink, and his nipples were hard. Harry appreciated Mikhail's Eastern European beauty and loved that he could make someone else feel so good.

"I'm assuming it was good?"

"Harry, there are very few men who will detest getting a blowjob, no matter how good or bad." Mikhail opened his eyes. "But yes, it was good. For your first time, you're a natural."

Harry smiled shyly and glanced away. _Yes, for my second time, I seem to be very good._ He buttoned Mikhail back up and moved forward and braced himself on either side of Mikhail's head. "Any pointers to make it better?"

Mikhail grinned. "Watch your teeth a bit more, maybe, but it's not so bad. And touching my balls some is always helpful."

That made Harry blush. "Noted." He watched Mikhail watching him, trying to figure out where to go from here. They obviously hadn't stuck to the "platonic" relationship bit for very long, but Harry really wasn't looking forward to going through anymore freezing spells and conflicting feelings. Taking a breather might help clear his head. But the occasional blowjob didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"I should probably get dressed again. I have an owl to send to Remus, and one to Sleekeazy. I need some new shampoo."

"Remus? Who's he?" Mikhail asked as he ran his fingers up and down Harry's ribcage.

Harry wriggled under his touch. "That tickles. Remus is an old family friend. I don't know if you were at Hogwarts when he taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he's sort of the last surviving friend of my parents. Ever since Sirius, my godfather, died when I was fifteen, and since I never really had one, he's been like a father figure to me. And…he's a werewolf."

"Oh, I see. I don't think I know him." Harry couldn't quite tell if Mikhail was uncomfortable with that information or not, so he rushed to clarify.

"He was bitten when he was very young. He takes Wolfsbane every month, so he's not…well, I wouldn't say he's _not_ dangerous, but he's not wild. He's the gentlest person I know."

"I believe you. So, when do I get to meet him?"

Harry sat back, allowing Mikhail to move out from under him and sit up himself. "I think he's coming to our next home match. You can meet him then."

Mikhail smiled. "Perfect." Leaning forward, he held out his hand until Harry took it. "Harry…with what just happened, do you…would you still like to back off mostly, like I suggested last night?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think that would be best. I don't mean to lead you on, and I really do like, you know, being with you, but yeah, it would probably be best if we weren't caught in a situation like this for some time."

"Alright. Whatever you need." He squeezed Harry's hand. "However long you need."

"Thank you, Mikhail."

Mikhail kissed Harry on the cheek, and stood up, gathering his discarded clothing and sloppily putting it back on. Harry followed, putting his shirt back on, and charming his jeans clean and dry.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Mikhail asked.

"At practice."

"I already miss you."

Harry turned a pretty shade of pink, to which Mikhail chuckled and planted another kiss in his hair. "Goodbye, Harry."

"'Bye, Mikhail."

As he watched his boyfriend leave, only one thought came to Harry's mind. _My boyfriend really is the soggiest bloke I know._

_

* * *

_

_**20 October 2003**_

_**Potter's Truth; Potter's Someone**_

**_An Interview by Luna Lovegood_**

_Sitting down with Mr. Harry Potter is always a pleasure, and even more of one when I get to ask him questions. Being a friend of the Boy-Who-Lived always brings new surprises, the least of which is news of romance._

_Many might remember, nearly ten years ago, when there was information pertaining to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger's love affair littering the papers. None of which was true of course. Quality publications, such as The Quibbler, had no part in such rumours, of course. So upon Harry telling his closest friends and roommates a newly discovered part of his life, I grabbed the chance to give him the courtesy of telling the truth, knowing how much he hates publicity and knowing the effect the information would have on the public if in the wrong hands._

_Our interview as conducted on October 14, 2003, is recorded below._

_**LL:** So Harry, you told us last night during dessert that you had some 'probably upsetting' news. Do you wish to make that news public? And was it good?_

_**HP:** Uh… what?_

_**LL:** Your dessert? Was it good? _

_**HP:** Um, I guess it was okay. Wait… What was the question again?_

_**LL:** Oh yes, your news. Do you want to make your news public?_

_**HP: **Might as well. I know it'll come out sooner or later. I… (pause) After many years of not knowing what really to make of myself after the war, I realised something very important. I was missing the one thing most everyone around me had—someone to care for._

_**LL:** And did you find someone?_

_**HP:** Not at first. I found myself attracted to both men and women though._

_**LL: **This probably comes as quite a shock to our readers. I know that you surely shocked some of your friends with this news._

_**HP:** (shrugs) It kinda came as a shock to me too. I thought there was something wrong with me. But I couldn't stop thinking about women **and** men in a sexual way._

_**LL:** Did you pursue a relationship with anyone you know?_

_**HP:** No. I was still rather confused about the whole idea of who I was attracted to, let alone how to **date** or **pursue** anyone._

_**LL:** Is there anyone you like right now?_

_**HP: **(blushes) Well, a few. But the main surprise to me was when someone I that I didn't know liked guys kissed me. Out of the blue. I sorta freaked out about it, I guess. I wasn't expecting it. I keep thinking I must have been missing the signs or something._

_**LL:** Did anything come of it?_

_**HP:** Er…yeah. I thought about it all weekend, and the next time I saw him, I asked him to be my boyfriend._

_**LL: **Really? Congratulations! That was awfully brave of you._

_**HP: **Yeah, I guess. I think it was pretty brave of him to kiss me when he wasn't sure if I was even gay or not._

_**LL: **So are you gay? Or still undecided?_

_**HP: **No, I know I like men. But I like women too. So I guess I'm what you would call 'bisexual'._

_**LL: **Then the young witches of Britain still have a chance?_

_**HP:** (chuckles) Sure, if I get to know them._

_**LL:** So who is this lucky wizard that has your attention?_

_**HP: **(smiles) Mikhail Chaikovsky._

_**LL:** Isn't he your Quidditch Captain?_

_**HP: **Yes. And I thought about that. But, well, how much favouritism can he give me, really? It's not like I'm on the reserve team, and besides, he's a fair bloke. He's actually going to let Draco Malfoy seek for this next game, from what I gather. Mikhail is a strong captain and an excellent Chaser, and is all about giving equal opportunities to those players who really work hard to become better._

_And, our other team mates don't seem to mind. About our relationship, I mean._

_**LL:** I'm glad to hear that. Do you and Mikhail have any plans for the future? And how about those showers?_

_**HP:** Unless you count… wait… what!_

_**LL: ** Those showers. They must have a nice view._

_**HP:** (blushes) Um, I don't think I'm at liberty to discuss that._

_**LL:** (smiles dreamily) Oh, well then about your plans._

_**HP: **(laughs nervously) Unless you count dinner later this week? No. Not yet. We haven't even been together for a whole day! But we'll see. It's my first real relationship, actually, so I'm even more unsure about all of that than I am of the fact that Mikhail's a guy._

_**LL:** Well, I wish you happiness, Harry. You deserve it._

_**HP: **Thank you, Luna._

_

* * *

_

_**Official Charges Against Skeeter Revealed!**_

_**As recorded by the Department of Wizarding Law, and reported by Belinda Marrowstar of The Daily Prophet**_

_Official charges against former Daily Prophet columnist Rita Skeeter by Misters Harry Potter, Mikhail Chaikovsky, Draco Malfoy and their law-wizards were revealed today by the Department of Wizarding Law._

_Just a week ago, _The Daily Prophet_ released an article written by Rita Skeeter claiming the sexual orientation of Harry Potter, Mikhail Chaikovsky, and Draco Malfoy, implying inside information on the relationships between the three men. _The Daily Prophet_ **is** being charged with Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress by printing the article. _The Daily Prophet_ editor, Byron Stanwick, denies any charges of negligence against the beloved British newspaper. _

_The charges against Rita Skeeter are as follows: three counts of Defamation of Character via Libel, three counts of Invasion of Privacy, one count of use of her unregistered Animagus form, three counts of using her unregistered Animagus form for spying into the private lives of the three prosecutors, three counts of Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress, and one count of Trespassing on school property after being banned._

_This is certainly a long list, and one must wonder if Rita Skeeter will be able to stand up to the charges. The most shocking of which is that she has an unregistered Animagus form, a beetle, with markings around the eyes like spectacles. Now many readers know just how she's been getting her information all these years. Stanwick denies to comment as to whether he will re-hire Ms. Skeeter if she is cleared of the charges._

_A trial date has yet to be set._

_

* * *

_

"That was a great practice today, Harry. You really pushed me up there."

"That was the point, Draco," Harry grinned. "Need to keep you up to speed for your big debut on the first."

"Are you really sure Chaikovsky is going to let me play?"

"Yes, now will you quit asking? You're good, Draco. Better than. You're fantastic! You just need someone other than me to tell you that."

"Malfoy, that was a pretty good run. Keep it up," Meghan, the team's manager said, passing by the boys with the Quaffle in her hands. Draco passed off the Snitch to her.

"See?" Harry said.

"Yeah, yeah, Genius."

Harry unclasped his outer practice robe from his neck. Draco caught a flash of what must have been the necklace he saw Harry wearing the night before. "What's that?" he asked nonchalantly, gesturing to Harry's neck.

"Sorry?" Harry touched the jade pendant as they stopped in front of the locker rooms, Mikhail and Meghan a few feet away, talking quietly. "Oh! This is a necklace that Ginny gave me last summer after she went to China."

"I've never seen you wear jewellery before. Is it magical?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at it.

"Er…I don't know. I don't think so. I haven't noticed anything particular about it. And I've been trained to notice all kinds of magical signatures and auras. Not just because of the war, but because of Medi-Wizard training."

"Could I look at it? Maybe it's meant not to be noticed by the wearer."

Harry pulled a face. "I'd rather you didn't."

Draco frowned. "Alright," he said cautiously. "Do you know what the symbol means?"

"Ginny said it means 'luck'. I think."

"Hm. Well, you should find out."

"I was planning on it."

"Hey babe. You did well out there today," Chaikovsky said, coming up behind Harry and giving him a kiss on the top of his head. Putting his arms around Harry he said to Draco, "You too, Malfoy."

Harry beamed.

Draco saw through the farce of Chaikovsky's compliment. He knew it was true, but he obviously didn't mean it, either.

"Thanks," Draco replied flatly.

Turning to Harry, Chaikovsky said, "Well, love, I'm going to hit the showers. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep. See ya." Chaikovsky kissed Harry on the cheek this time, keeping his eyes on Draco's. The blond returned the glare.

Watching Chaikovsky walk away, Draco asked, "So, how's your relationship going?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I suppose. I think we managed to find a way around my…problem."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We're going to try to not be alone together. Slowly work things up, I guess you could say." He looked at Draco. "I'm sorry if talking about this makes you uncomfortable."

Draco shook his head. "I'm happy for you."

Harry smiled. "Thanks Draco. That means a lot."

Draco nodded. "I just want you to be happy."

"You and everyone else." Harry sighed. "Let me grab my things, and I'll walk you home."

As Harry disappeared into the locker room, Draco contemplated what to do with his knowledge of Harry and Mikhail's relationship. The fact that he had been spying, and even cracked the window open to hear, wasn't something he was keen on sharing, nor particularly proud of.

_Just be his friend,_ a voice sounding suspiciously like Weasley echoed in his inner ear.

_Yeah, yeah, Weaslebee. I'm trying._

Harry came out the next moment. "Ready?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know I only shower at home. I come with what I need."

"Don't you hate being all hot and sticky for so long?"

Draco shrugged. "I'd rather shower at home. What about you? Don't you usually shower with the boys?"

"Not really. I usually wait for them all to get done."

"Why?"

"Scars," Harry murmured.

"Oh." Draco paused. "Why not just go home, then?"

"I don't know. I like the quiet echoes of the locker room after everyone's gone I guess. Left over habit from Hogwarts."

"Hm," Draco hummed understandingly.

"So, did you read Luna's article?"

"In that quack rag? No, not yet. And I'm not sure I should need to. I know what happened."

"Do you?" Harry teased.

"Yes. We messed around, I pushed you away, you got with Chaikovsky."

"Is that all it was? Messing around?"

"No, Harry, of course not. You _know_ it was more than that." Sigh. "Did you read the charges against Skeeter in the _Prophet_?"

"Yeah, Hermione showed me. I didn't realise she could be charged with so much. I don't even know what half of it means, exactly."

Draco's grin was feral. "Defamation of Character is written or spoken injury to a person or organization's reputation; Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress is a claim for intentional conduct that results in extreme emotional distress; and Invasion of Privacy is a violation of the right to be left alone. Our law-wizards will take her _and_ the _Daily Prophet_ for all they've got."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Come on, Potter. Screwing over the enemy is what I do best; it's what I _strive_ for with every waking breath. You of all people should remember that."

Harry smirked. "Indeed. Well, this is your stop. I'll see you tomorrow, Draco."

"Later, Harry."

As Draco watched Harry walk away, he wondered if the green-eyed man knew just what life was getting him into.

* * *

"Hey, Ginny?" 

The redhead looked up from her pasta. "Yeah, Harry?"

"Do you remember what the symbol on my necklace means?"

Ginny looked down to Harry's neck, squinting at the amulet like she couldn't quite place where she had seen it before. "Oh, hey, that's the necklace I got you last summer. You're wearing it!" she beamed.

Harry smiled back. "Yeah. I like it. But do you know what the symbol means?"

"Hmm… I'm pretty sure the man said it meant 'luck' or…well, I'm not sure. My Cantonese isn't all that great, and his English was terrible. That, and he seemed to be spouting philosophy and random Buddhist sayings. Why don't you look it up?"

Slightly dismayed at the thought of unrelated-to-school research, Harry nodded. "It's next on my list."

* * *

"…is Ginny sure she didn't get the pendant from a Kappa? They're rather tricksy. I heard a man bought a pretty stone ring from one that turned his skin into stone whenever he felt angry, and didn't turn him back to normal until he managed to calm himself down. But on the other hand, that saves someone from doing anything out of anger that they might regret later…" 

"Luna."

"And then there are Pokémon. There's all kinds of those creatures, and they can do all sorts of things…"

"Luna."

"Like one can manipulate lightning, and another one just sits there and sleeps. Oh! And there's always-"

"Luna!"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You're distracting me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me."

"It's alright…just…um, keep your comments for later, alright? When we're not in the library."

"Can do, can do."

A few silent moments passed before Harry huffed and shut the book he'd been reading. "There's nothing. I can't find anything on Chinese symbolism. Isn't this a university? Shouldn't there be a plethora of books on every subject?"

"Have you tried a dictionary?" asked Luna quietly, not looking up from her parchment.

"A dictionary? What on earth for?"

But Luna didn't get a chance to answer as five owls came bearing down on their study space. They all scrambled to try to get to Harry first, feathers flying every which way and beaks snapping.

"Alright, alright! One at a time. And keep the noise down, we're in a library," Harry admonished the birds.

Thankfully, none of the letters were Howlers, but Harry had an idea of what they were about. Responses to Luna's article. Oh, and one strongly-worded response to Harry's charges against Rita Skeeter. He sighed. "Thanks," he told the birds, and they all flew away without replies.

"Fan mail?" asked Luna.

"Sort of." Harry double-checked them for curses and the like, and then continued opening them, scanning them all quickly. "Oh, Merlin, someone's _proposed_ to me!"

"Proposed what? A sit down dinner in your honour?"

"No, Luna. Of _marriage._"

"Oh, yes. I've gotten one of those too. See my ring?"

Harry's head swivelled around to stare at the colourful ring adorning Luna's hand, speechless. It had just about every semi-precious stone Harry had ever heard of. And probably a few he hadn't. It was like a fruit basket of sparkling jewels set in a two-toned band. "_What_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, yes. Neville's asked me to marry him." Luna leaned in conspiratorially. "I think he got the idea from Hermione."

Harry sat there in shock, his own proposal forgotten. "When did this happen?"

"Oh, let's see…Saturday night?"

"And you haven't told anyone?"

"I've told you."

"But why haven't you announced it yet? Like at dinner last night?"

"Because Neville wants to tell his grandmother first."

Harry nodded understandingly. Neville's grandmother was one woman who didn't like surprises, not that much could probably surprise her…she'd be alive long after they were all dead, in Harry's opinion. That woman was just _never_ going to die. Harry had never met anyone with so much will power and such a stubborn streak. Well, except Ron, maybe.

Shaking his head, Harry turned to Luna and said, "Congratulations, Luna. I can't wait for the wedding."

"And I can't wait for yours."

"Who said I was getting married?"

"Well, didn't you just get a proposal?"

"Well, yes, but not from anyone I want to marry, or even know."

"Oh, that's too bad. I was sure blond, green-eyed children were in your future."

Harry frowned. "And how do you know that?"

"The tartspikes told me."

Harry rolled his eyes. Loony Lovegood. As much as he loved her to death, her ability to be more than a little kooky sometimes really made for an ineffectual conversation. So, he changed the subject.

"Have you gotten any reviews about your article?"

* * *

On Friday, Harry went to Quidditch practice anticipating the line-up Mikhail was going to announce that day. He arrived on the pitch, and said hello to his other team mates, giving Draco a knowing grin. 

"Alright, boys, lets get through our warm-ups and then I'll announce the players for the next game."

They all swooshed up into the air, flying laps and playing tag. Once back down on the ground, Mikhail ran them through one lap jogging around the pitch, then some light stretching, sit-ups and push-ups. Afterwards, they all gathered around, and Harry sidled up next to Draco to give silent moral support. Draco's fingers brushed his, and Harry gave in to the temptation and squeezed Draco's fingers before quickly releasing them.

Harry grinned in Mikhail's direction as he listed the line-up off.

"Keeper—Weasley; Chasers—Darby, Strader, and I; Beaters—Scanton and Smytheson; and Seeker—Potter. Now, everyone up in the air!"

As everyone moved to re-mount their brooms, Harry's anger exploded in a wave that stilled all motion. "You said you were going to put Draco in this game!"

Mikhail held Harry's gaze steady. "I decided against it."

Draco watched the scene unfold; stone cold and right down pissed that Chaikovsky would let his personal feelings get in the way of the game. Not that one would have noticed how Draco was feeling. He planted a completely blank and passive look on his face.

"Bullshit, Mikhail! You didn't place Draco because you don't like him. Well, I refuse to play, so you're just going to have to let Draco."

"Harry, we really don't have time for this. I made my decision-"

"And it's unfair, and you know it! Draco's just as good as me, if not better-"

"But he's _not_ you, and he's _not_ better."

"It doesn't matter. I'm not playing. I refuse the position."

"And I'm the Captain, and what I say goes."

Meghan stepped in. "Guys, you're acting a little childish-"

"I don't give a fuck, Meghan," Harry spat. He glared at Chaikovsky. "Mikhail went back on his word, and I don't like liars."

"I _never _promised you Malfoy would play. I said I'd think about it. And I did."

"Like fuck you did. You can't play favourites, Mikhail. You have no right not to place Draco because you don't like the fact that he and I are friends-"

"Drop it, Harry," Draco said quietly. "It's not worth breaking up your relationship with Chaikovsky for."

Harry whirled around. "Don't you care, Draco? I thought you wanted to play."

"I do. But I can't force the Captain's hand. It's okay. You can play." Draco just wanted to stop the silly argument before it implicated him and Harry of messing around, not to mention it was just stupid. Chaikovsky wasn't going to change his mind.

"I don't want to," Harry replied flatly. He turned to Chaikovsky. "You'll just have to do with out me, _Captain_. I'm not playing, or coming back to practice." He pushed past all of his dumbstruck team mates and walked back towards the locker rooms for his things.

"So you're just quitting the team?" Chaikovsky called to him.

Harry turned and yelled back, "You can't make me play, Mikhail. And if you're only left with one Seeker, what will you have to do when the next game comes in a week?" And with that, Harry stalked off the pitch, leaving everyone in his wake uncomfortable and surprised. Harry Potter loved Quidditch. That was something that had never changed.

Chaikovsky stared after Harry for a long moment before saying in a low voice, "Everyone back in the air. Except Malfoy."

Chaikovsky turned to Draco as the eleven other players soared into the air, Weasley trailing behind, but eventually following. "I don't like that your relationship with Harry is influencing him so much."

Draco fought the urge to cross his arms defensively. "And just how is my relationship with Harry influencing him so much? _Or_ any of your business?"

"You have some type of control over him, Malfoy. I know it's not Imperius, otherwise he wouldn't be with me at all. You want him for yourself, and I think he knows it, so he's trying not to hurt you. He's being nicer to you than you deserve."

Draco laughed. "You really _are_ paranoid, you know that? It's just like you said, Chaikovsky. Harry's with _you_. He's upset at _you_ because _you_ disappointed him. He _likes_ you for whatever reason, and you let him down. I won't deny that he's trying to protect me; that we're good friends, but I have no control over him. If I do, it's all in his head. _He _was the one who was so sure you would let me play." He shrugged. "I had a feeling you wouldn't. As much as it pisses me off, I'm not blind to your unwarranted animosity, unlike Harry."

"Don't insult him."

"I'm not. I'm just stating a fact. Harry doesn't always want to see what's in front of him. It's caused him a lot of heartache in the past."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have known that," Chaikovsky sneered.

"Just because I hated him, doesn't mean I didn't notice things. Know thy enemy." Draco picked up his broom. "Besides, I think it's rather childish of you to make this all about me and my relationship with Harry when you have a team to lead. You made your decision, so stick with it. You _are _the Captain."

"Don't you dare mock me, Malfoy."

"Then don't let your personal feelings get in the way of you being Captain to the Quidditch team," Draco snarled.

"Well, you're bloody going to be Seeker now, so aren't you happy already, or do you need more? Trying to take Harry too?"

Draco just shook his head. "You're rather insecure for a know-it-all Ravenclaw, aren't you? And yes, I looked up your family background. Know thy enemy," Draco sneered, reminding Chaikovsky just why it was Malfoy put him off so. "Harry likes you, you twat. Fucking get that through your head. I _swear_ you were really a stubborn Gryffindor," he muttered before plastering a fake smile on his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I seem to have lost my practice partner, and I need to go find our little hero. And somehow remind him that he just had a very public fight with his boyfriend _as well_ as his captain. Good day." And Draco brushed past Chaikovsky, headed straight for the woods where he saw Harry duck into nearly ten minutes ago when no one was looking.

_Headed for the cove…_ Draco thought, sighing. This was going to be a long night, if he had to get Harry to come back to Quidditch and had to take Raven out too.

_The things I do for love._

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**A/N:**_ Okay. Again, I'm never sure how long I'll be for the next chapter, but I **do **have the chapter summaries finished, so things should generally move more smoothly. School's getting out for three weeks, but I also have work and clients I will be working with. After that, it's my last quarter at school, and then I graduate, so I can **absolutely **make no promises about anything, only keep you updated (which you can be, if you jion my mailing list. :hint hint:)._

_I got my first piece of fanart! Yay! It's a little pixel art of Raven. Go there and enjoy! _ http / i11 (dot) photobucket (dot) com (slash) albums (slash) a151 (slash) gothic-light (slash) Raven (dot) jpg

**Review Responses: (to those who didn't sign in or didn't leave an email)**

**Lyra Nightshade**: Thank you! I love enthusiastic readers. I'm happy to know my story is crack to some people. :) Hope to hear from you again!

**Marie-Claire**: Thank you for reviewing! Happy to know my story was one of the rare ones you reviewed for! (It's okay...I don't review much either. At least once per story, usually.) :) I do plan on finishing it out, it just might take a while. At least twenty more chapters, actually, but that includes a few interludes/intermissions. I won't spill the beans on the ending, but there will definitely be some threesome action before everything is said and done. Not very extensively, though. Thanks for the feedback!

**E-san**: Hmm...I'm not sure if you're still reading. I tend to lose people early on, which is usually due to _completely unintentional_ similarities between my story and the movie "Cruel Intentions", or because of Raven. Understandable. I don't like her much myself a lot of the time, and there are times I wonder how this story would have gone if it weren't for her severe meddling. I hope you've gotten at least this far, however, and are hoping to see how this story IS going to wind up Harry/Draco. Hope to hear from you again, if you're still around.

**SummerRoxy:** I'll honestly say that I have no idea how to reply to your review without completely being overly understanding (and lying to myself and you in the process) or without being bitchy. Maybe it's the mood I'm in today. I _can_ understand a chapter being unsatisfying. I've come across stories like that, where I had anticipated something, and it didn't come until much later. But let me say this; I won't be rushed into breaking certain characters up and putting others together. This story is meant to be realistic; things don't happen all in one day. Sometimes it seems like every week your life has changed in some significant way, and if you look at the timeline, this chapter starts out on October 18th, **one **day shy of a month after the story started. So really, everything that has happened, has happened in about four weeks to the characters. Do you see what I'm getting at? Realising you're attracted to the same sex, and jumping into your first _heavy _sexual encounter isn't something you just breeze through without some previous experience, at least not and especially not for Harry. He needs to take time to process. I know I don't update often, but that's not always something I can control. I can't update everyday like I want to, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry if I'm coming off a little brash, but that's my feelings on the matter. I will update when I can, and I hope this chapter was a little more satisfying, in some way. The tension isn't anywhere near where it will be before things really break, though, so more torture to come. I hope I haven't pissed you off, and I hope to hear from you again.


	23. The Masquerade

_**Chapter Notes: **I'm so excited this chapter is ready for all of you! I hope you have plenty of time to sit down and read it...it's about 45 pages long! I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you like it. There's a lot going on; a supporting character is introduced, and the boys get to go through some interesting things; lots of masks put on an removed, and lots of emotions going haywire. This rollercoaster isn't even _close _to being over..._

_As always, lots of love to my betas **IcyAurora8 **and **Michelle**. I couldn't do this without them; truly. I'm **dedicating **this chapter to Jesse, who won't read this, but has personal experience and (hopefully) knows now that hiding behind masks and lies only makes things worse in the end. Here's to removing those masks we all have! I love you all, and can't wait to hear from you!_

_P.S. A THOUSAND thanks goes to **Sherpa**, who contacted me after the initial posting and helped me with my Russian. I can't thank her enough! Lots of love! Also, **Nataly**, who helped with my Cyrillic characters. Thanks, girl! **Andy **helped me with my German, so I am forever grateful to him! Danke!  
_

NOTE: There are some little bits of Russian and German later in this chapter. I am certainly not fluent in either language, and found the translations with the help of many dictionaries and online translators. Any help in cleaning them up would be most appreciated from native speakers. Thank you!

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Chapter XXII – The Masquerade

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That same Friday night, now freshly washed after Quidditch warm-ups and his adventure tromping around the perpetually damp woods looking for Harry, Draco dressed in the nicest charcoal cashmere he had; bottomed in black trousers, and covered in a water-proof black cloak of the finest wool.

He crossed to the dormitory next door, knocking on the door to request entrance. Tracey opened the door and exclaimed, "Whoa, Draco baby, you're looking nice tonight. Got plans with Raven?"

Draco stepped forward into Tracey's personal space and smirked knowingly down at her. "Why Tracey, I didn't know you harboured such feelings for me." He placed two fingers under her chin and kissed her on the cheek. "We had a fun time once, didn't we? Back when we were sixteen?"

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes. "Yes. We kissed. Once, Drake. During a game of unrestricted 'Spin the Wand'. It was very long and nice, if I remember correctly. Pansy was pissed. And I remember that you quit when your spin landed on Crabbe," she snickered.

He wrinkled his nose. "Why was he even playing? How gross. And I hate being called anything but Draco, you know that. How long have we known each other?"

"Too long. But you let Raven call you 'Drake'. And 'Dray'."

"Yes, but I also let her manipulate me. And you had your chance."

"Ooh, letting on your weaknesses, Draco. Talk about breaking out of your Slytherin shell."

"Hush up, Davies." He stepped past her. "Is Raven here?"

"Yes, baby. Right here." Raven stepped around the curve in the stairs, revealing herself.

Draco smiled up at her. "Hey. Would you like to go out tonight?"

"Where are we going? You've caught me off-guard. I'm not dressed."

"Then take a moment. But dress warm. We're going to Manchester."

Raven smiled brilliantly. "Give me fifteen minutes." And she disappeared up the stairs.

Tracey closed the door. "Draco, you are, by far, the strangest person I know."

"Oh? How is that, Davies?"

"I'm not sure. You just are." Tracey raised a knowledgeable eyebrow and vanished into the lounge.

Draco shook his head at the woman's oddity, and patiently waited a few more minutes for Raven to arrive.

When she did, he was almost floored; rooted to the spot. Her hair was piled in dark ringlets at the back of her head and cascading down her back. She was wearing a high collared shirt-jacket in heavy dark red jacquard over a matching skirt that dropped down to her ankles. The sleeves of the jacket were long, flaring out only slightly at her knuckles, and the skirt swirled around her old-fashioned boots. Draped over her elbows was a heavy black shawl.

"My dear, you look absolutely stunning."

Raven smiled down at Draco, the interesting dark colour around her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"Thank you." She stepped off the last stair. She shook her head and her ringlets let out swirls of sparkles into the air around her. "I'm assuming we're going to a Wizarding restaurant. Otherwise, my hair might give us away."

Fingering a ringlet next to her face, Draco smirked. "I wouldn't care either way." He kissed her on the forehead. "I don't know how Muggles live with out magic. It must take them hours to look even a fraction as beautiful as you do."

Smiling coyly, Raven said, "Shall we?"

"We'll be Apparating under the train tracks that run over Duke Street, and from there, we're walking to Albert's Shed. It's a Muggle restaurant at the centre of the Castlefield canal basin."

"A Muggle restaurant? Well, should I un-charm my hair?"

"No, no. Leave it. I'd like to think you could charm us into a free meal."

Raven laughed. "Alright. Let's go." She looped her arm through his, and using side-Apparition, Draco Apparated them straight away.

They arrived under the tracks just as a train was passing overhead. Raven jumped and huddled closer to Draco, neither of them expecting the sound.

"It's alright," Draco whispered reassuringly.

It was drizzling in Manchester, like it was in most of the United Kingdom in October. Draco conjured an oversized umbrella, holding it over the both of them and escorting Raven south towards Castle Street. As the train passed, it got suddenly quiet, but soon, other sounds of the Muggle world permeated the atmosphere. Distant sirens, honking, the wet 'shhh' of many cars passing by on wet concrete and cobblestone, and the occasional dog bark were all heard.

"How can Muggles stand to live with so much noise?" Raven asked.

"I haven't a clue. Regardless of some of its rather unpleasant memories, I'd take the quietness of the Manor any day. Although the crash of the Irish Sea is nice, isn't it?"

"Mmm," Raven agreed quietly. "Tell me, Drake, how'd you learn of this place?"

"Research, love. I wanted to take you out; to somewhere other than Celestine's, though bless him for being such a wonderful young entrepreneur. I went to Gringott's after practice one night, acquired the proper British pounds, and then came here to Manchester to find some place to take you."

"That's awfully sweet of you."

"Here we are."

They came across a lovely stone courtyard, with sparkling lights shining brightly off the water on the ground and in the air. Draco guided Raven towards a brick building which had large bay windows on both the lower and upper levels.

Entering Albert's Shed, they approached the maitre d' and announced reservations for two under the name "Malfoy". They were escorted right away to a table in the corner, given a wine list and menus and told their waiter would be with them shortly. Almost immediately after that, their water goblets were filled, and a basket of warm bread was placed on their table.

Raven raised an eyebrow, removing the shawl from her shoulders and settling into her cushioned chair. "Excellent service."

"Indeed. Hmm…should we order wine?" asked Draco, picking up the wine menu from the table.

"Draco, you know I don't like wine. Didn't we have this conversation just two or three weeks ago?"

He frowned. "Yes. You wanted _grape juice_ with dinner."

"Wine's made from grapes too, you know!"

Draco didn't rise to the bait. "Sometimes you are just so uncultured; it makes me wonder why I find you so attractive."

Raven's jaw dropped. "Take that back, Draco Malfoy. I will not tolerate being belittled by the likes of _you._"

"Oh, love, you know I'm only teasing. I'm ordering a wine. You can have what ever it is you'd like."

"Do you know what you're eating?"

"Not yet, no."

"Then why order wine? You can't mix whatever food you like with whatever wine you like, you know."

"I know. But if I choose a wine now, it'll limit my options to choose between food palates. It makes looking at the menu easier."

Raven just rolled her eyes. Looking at the large array of menu items, she asked as if she hadn't a care in the world, "So, are you going to tell me what this dinner is all about, or shall I guess?"

Draco looked up. "Excuse me?"

Raven locked gazes with the man across from her. "Think about who you're talking to, Draco. Probably one of the most blatantly manipulative Dark Spies of this age. I can read people like an open book that's reading itself out loud. What's bothering you?"

"What makes you think something's bothering me? I just wanted to take you out. We've never really gone out before. I set this up days ago."

Raven studied him a moment before nodding. "Alright. Then what's bothering you?"

"I told you nothing's bothering me. Except your insistence that something is."

Raven continued to look at Draco. He broke a minute later.

"Okay, fine. Harry quit the team this afternoon."

Raven blinked in shock. "What?"

"Yes, he just walked off the pitch."

"You've got to be kidding me. Harry wouldn't—he loves the game too much-"

"That's what I thought. But apparently Chaikovsky pushed him too far."

"Wait, Chaikovsky? What did _he_ do? Draco, tell me what happened from the beginning."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but the waiter appeared. "Good evening. My name is John and I shall be your server for this evening. Can I offer to get you some refreshments?"

"Water's fine for me," said Raven, easily dismissing the waiter, wanting to hear what was going on with Harry. "Oh, could I have some wedges of lemon, though?"

"Certainly." John's brow creased for a moment at Raven when he glanced at her hair before turning congenially to Draco. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the Pinot Noir _Vidal Estate_, and we'll have garlic bread with mozzarella for an appetiser."

"Excellent choice, sir. That vintage only comes per bottle. Is that satisfactory?"

"Yes."

John nodded. "I will return momentarily with your drinks."

As soon as the waiter was out of hearing range, Raven leaned forward and whispered, "Now tell me, what the hell happened?"

"Chaikovsky announced the players for the next game this afternoon."

Raven sat back. "Let me guess, the jerk-off didn't place you."

"No, he didn't. But it was as I expected. Harry had all the faith in the world that Chaikovsky would place me in the line-up, but I wasn't really surprised that he let his personal feelings get in the way of giving me a chance." Draco closed the menu and placed it on the edge of the table. "Do you know what you want?"

Raven shook her head briefly before scanning the menu quickly and making a choice, placing her menu atop Draco's.

"I imagine Harry was right pissed off, wasn't he?" The waiter arrived with Draco's wine and Raven's lemon wedges.

"Yes, he was," Draco replied, taking the glass of wine their server had poured, inhaling the rich berry and oak scent before sipping. He nodded towards the waiter with a satisfactory smile on his face before gesturing to Raven to give John her order.

"I'll have the king prawn linguine, please." John nodded and turned to Draco.

"I'll have the forestiere steak, 8 ounce fillet, with new potatoes and a mixed leaf salad. Creamy Italian dressing, if you have it."

"Yes, we do. Shall that be all?" Raven and Draco nodded, and John again looked at Raven's hair. "I will bring your appetiser shortly."

Draco smiled. "I do believe our waiter is either smitten with you, or has at least noticed your otherworldly beauty," he said after John had departed.

Despite herself, Raven blushed. "Otherworldly, indeed. It still amazes me how cultured Muggles can be. Other than the obvious Muggleness of it all, I would say we were in a refined Wizard restaurant."

Draco glanced around to make sure the patrons nearby didn't catch on to Raven's words. "We accepted them long ago, Raven."

"Yes, but we spend no time among them, either." She paused, gazing at Draco calculatingly. "I don't think I've ever seen you so refined."

"Excuse me? I'm as well-bred as they come," Draco retorted.

"Yes, but we've never been out. I've never known you this way, not really. There wasn't much time for it during the war, and before that, you were a spoilt brat."

"Hey!"

"It's true. Not much refinery to be had, being a student at Hogwarts, wearing those awful robes, and trudging around Hogsmeade, which isn't the most refined place, I might add."

"I, my dear, have _always_ been refined. You just never paid enough attention."

"I believe I've paid plenty of attention to you, Draco."

"Do you want to know about this afternoon or not?" Draco asked, effectively rerouting the vein of conversation, just as John returned with their appetiser.

Raven reached forward, slicing a chunk off and nibbling on it. "Of course. Go on. What happened after Chaikovsky pissed Harry off?"

"Harry effectively bit Chaikovsky's head off. I, of course, acted cool and calm. Harry refused to play or even practice unless Chaikovsky changed his mind. When he didn't, Harry stormed off the pitch. Then Chaikovsky wanted to talk to me, so he sent everyone else off to practice on their own." Draco took his own chunk of garlic bread.

"What did he say?"

"Basically that he wants me to stop influencing Harry."

"Influencing Harry? How?"

"He thinks our friendship is what's driving Harry's decision-making lately." Taking a sip of wine, Draco continued. "I told him it was utter bullshit, and that if Harry's being influenced by me it's of his own choosing, not because of anything I've done or said. He pretty much accused me of wanting Harry for myself. And I know he meant in the 'you want to fuck Harry' kind of way."

"So he's on to you."

"Yes."

"Do you think he suspects Harry of foul play?"

"No, I think he thinks it's totally on my part. He told me that he thinks Harry knows I like him in that way—which I didn't confirm or deny, by the way—and that that was the reason Harry was still friends with me; why he was so nice. Because Harry doesn't want to hurt my feelings or some such rubbish." He took a bite of bread.

"Didn't Weasley tell you to watch out for him?"

Draco nodded, and swallowed the spongy bread in his mouth. "Yes. But I told him I can handle Chaikovsky, and I can."

"I don't doubt you, Draco. But, perhaps you should be slightly more cautious. If the knowledge of you and Harry becomes public…not even you can out-duck the consequences."

"I will not be scared away from Harry by some silly little Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain who has a phobia of his boyfriend fraternising with other people."

Raven tipped her head at him as she sat back and sipped her water with lemon. "I wouldn't expect you to."

Draco swallowed his last mouthful of bread. "Enough of that rubbish. What's going on with your art? I haven't heard anything as of late."

"I've really only been taking pictures lately."

"No nudes I need to hex?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "Unless you count Daphne and Tracey, no. Mandy's even thought about it."

"Brocklehurst? Interesting." Draco nodded. "So no more painting then? I liked your paintings. Much more beautiful than all those portraits at Hogwarts."

Raven shrugged. "I've gotten rather involved in Muggle photography. Originally, it was just to have figure reference photos that didn't move, but I quite like it on its own too. It's a challenge. A lot of the pictures don't come out, so there's a lot of wasted film and prints. The books I bought aren't _nearly_ informational enough. And, I don't have the proper lighting equipment either, according to the books. I've had to go to London and buy all sorts of chemicals and paper and film, just to get it all to work properly."

"Would you like me to buy you some lighting materials?" Draco asked, just as John appeared with their food.

Raven murmured her thanks as her pasta was placed in front of her. "No. It wouldn't matter. They'll need that ekeltricity, or whatever it is the Muggles call it."

Draco cast Raven a stern glare, glancing at John's reaction. Raven seemed not to notice her lack of discreetness, happily digging into her pasta. John's face reddened under Draco's scrutiny, trying to keep the confusion off his face and averting his eyes. As John straightened from placing Draco's steak in front of the blond, he cleared his throat and murmured, "It's _electricity_, ma'am."

Raven looked up and smiled, her ringlets twirling and sending sparkles every which way. "Thank you, John."

John nodded, his flush receding. "Do you need anything else?"

Raven continued smiling brilliantly. "No thank you, John. The linguini is exquisite. Give my compliments to the chef."

John gave them both a short nod, staring a little mesmerized at Raven. Then he took his tray and stand and departed. Draco turned on Raven.

"Forget what I said about you being uncultured, that was bloody brilliant!" he said in an excited whisper. "I wonder if he thinks we're foreign." He picked up his fork and knife, and started cutting his steak into small pieces.

"I certainly hope not. Besides, we're British. We sound just like him, don't we?"

Draco shrugged, placing a piece of the meat in his mouth. He hummed momentarily in pleasure, but only loud enough for Raven to hear. "Yes, but not knowing what 'electricity' is—that's how he said it, right?—that was enough to put his radar on alert for something wrong. Actually, I'm surprised you knew his name. You kept blowing him off before."

"I'm observant, Draco. Have you forgotten that?"

"No, no. How could I?"

"You really should be too. You seem so…different lately."

Draco paused mid-chew to look at Raven oddly before swallowing and asking, "Define 'different'."

"I'm not sure. You've been…more in tune with your feelings, maybe? Less snarky and you don't sneer as much. You just don't feel like you used to. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, it's just different."

"Well, I'm not really the same person I was even a month ago, Raven."

"I know. You still hated Harry a month ago."

"I didn't _hate_ him. I still _wanted_ to hate him; I just couldn't admit that I didn't anymore."

"See? And now you can admit things too."

Draco contemplated his salad and said, "I thought you liked me the way I was. You said you fell in love with me then."

"I did. And I still do love you. That's never changed. We just have. Together. It wasn't like I was all excited about Muggles and Harry a few years ago. And since then, we've learned more about Harry, learned to work with Muggles, and been given back our wands and a chance to live freely again." Raven stuck a forkful of pasta and shrimp into her mouth.

Draco finished his salad and said, "I think I fell in love with you in Sanctuary."

Raven looked up. "Oh?"

Draco nodded before starting on his potatoes. "Yes. You were _there_, Raven. I know Blaise was too, but there isn't a time I can remember of those six months that you weren't by my side, even if you were writing or drawing or crying. I tried to be there for you, but I couldn't. I was weak, and you were strong. You still are."

"Draco…" Raven whispered.

But Draco kept on talking, eyes intent on his plate, moving his potatoes and remaining steak around with his fork. "And that's why it hurts when I think about how I feel about Harry now. I didn't think I could _ever_ feel this way about someone other than you, even after Pansy died. I loved her, but not like this. And I don't know what to do about it, because I can't just ignore my feelings anymore." He stabbed a potato and bit out, "I feel fucking pathetic."

"Draco, love, you are _not_ pathetic. There's absolutely nothing wrong with how you're feeling. It's hardly pathetic. You only want to think it's pathetic because of your father's lingering influence. But I don't love you any less for loving Harry, and wanting to be with him."

"But it's not _right_, Raven. I shouldn't want him so much, should I?" he said in a heated whisper. "Chaikovsky's right; I _do_ want him for myself. But how is that fair to Harry? I'm not that different, Raven. I want him, and I'll have him. Forever, if I can."

Raven sat back slowly, watching Draco finish up his supper, scrutinising what he just confessed to her. It was going perfectly, her plan, and it had better continue going that way. Starting back on her meal, she thanked whatever Lord was out there that her plan left plenty of room for the unknown and the uncontrollable.

_Even though there are still plenty of obstacles to overcome, I believe this will work. It _has_ to work. If it doesn't…then I don't know how I'm going to contain the chaos of the aftermath that's sure to follow._

They finished the rest of their meal in silence, Draco sitting back and gulping the rest of his wine, pouring another glass, and drinking that quickly too. Raven sipped her water, unsure of what to say. John came over and removed their plates.

"Would you like to see a dessert menu?" he asked.

Raven smiled warmly across the table at Draco. "Yes, I think so."

Draco sat back up as John departed. "I'm sorry I've brought down the mood, love. This was supposed to be a nice night out."

"And it has been, Draco. Truly. I'm enjoying myself. I'm just worried about you."

"I'll be fine." John came and gave them each a dessert menu, pausing to fill up Raven's water.

"What do you recommend, John?" Raven asked sweetly, looking up at their server with a sly look on her face. Draco watched her, amused.

John swallowed, looking at the girl in either nervousness or awe. "The Albert's Ice Cream Sundae is good, especially if you'd like to share."

Raven looked down at her menu, reading the description of the sundae, adding more swirls of sparkles to the air around her head. "Hmm…yes, that sounds lovely. Draco?"

The blond nodded. "Yes, I agree. The sundae. With two spoons."

John smiled, looking mainly at Raven. "I'll make it myself." And he left.

"I was right," Draco declared. "He's smitten with you."

"Oh, who wouldn't be? Regardless of the sparkles and the charming smile."

"Yes, I believe you've dazzled him senseless, love."

"Good. Perhaps he won't charge us."

They laughed; glad to have the conversation back on lighter terms. Shortly after, the sundae arrived, and the two took to the task of tackling it. Raven was particular about the raspberries, chocolate ice cream, chocolate sauce and whipped cream, while Draco stole the strawberries and blackberries with the vanilla ice cream, enjoying the crunchy bits of marzipan biscuits mixed in. They finished the delicacy, smirking and giggling, fighting over the last of the sauce, ice cream and berries. John came by with their check.

"I take it you liked it?" the waiter asked.

"Oh yes," Raven half moaned, fluttering her eyes closed and smiling predatorily up at the auburn-haired, brown-eyed young man. "Very." She licked her lips slowly.

Again, John flushed, but for different reason, Draco was sure. He looked quickly at the bill and counted out the proper number of bills and then some, slipping them inside the case and winking at John as he handed it back. "Keep the change."

John smiled brilliantly at Draco, and left them to take their leave. Draco stood, moving around the table to escort Raven out of her chair, and stepping behind her to place the shawl more securely around her shoulders.

"It looked like your sparkly charm worked," Draco whispered in her ear. "He didn't charge us for the dessert."

"Trying to win points with me, I'm sure," Raven said demurely back, leading the way out of the restaurant. "Even though it's quite clear that I'm already taken." Draco chuckled and picked up their umbrella at the host's station.

Again, they were back in the rain, and they walked even more quickly across the courtyard and down the cobblestone street to the train bridge. Once there, Draco secured an arm around Raven's waist, pulling her to him. He vanished the umbrella and took out his wand to Apparate them home.

"I think your charm worked on more than just John tonight," he said, before kissing her deeply. She tasted of sweet raspberries and chocolate.

* * *

Harry was happily spending most of Saturday on his stomach in his bed. He was comfortable, cosily warm, and just plain didn't want to move. He didn't care that he had homework to finish, or research to do on Chinese symbols, or that his stomach was starting to protest to a lack of food for nearly twelve hours; he didn't really care about much at the moment, and he was quite happy to keep it that way. 

Hiding beneath his burgundy duvet, he whispered '_Tempus_' and listened while his Snitch-clock told him it was a quarter to noon.

Yep, staying in bed was a healthy option today.

Through his hazy dozing, Harry thought he heard the click of his door opening, and someone padding into the room. There was a soft clink as something was put on his bedside table and then a nice, warm, heavy weight as someone sat down next to him on the bed, making his prone form roll slightly towards the dip in the mattress. Harry didn't move to acknowledge the person.

This someone didn't talk, but Harry had reason to believe it was female. Hermione or Ginny, perhaps? A hand moved the covers down from around Harry's head, and he pretended to sleep; unmoving and slowly breathing. The hand was warm as it ran through Harry's mop of hair, and then ran down his cheek. The gesture made Harry puzzle as to who it was sitting next to him, but he didn't let it show.

Then it felt as though this person, who now _definitely_ smelled like a girl, leaned over him, bracing a hand on the other side of his body. Warm breath tickled his ear and he fought not to twitch.

That was before his ear drum was assaulted with a loud yell.

Harry immediately tried to sit up, thrashing in his blankets, and rolling over, only entangling himself more. "Okay! I'm bloody up!" he yelled back, blinking in the bright, late morning light coming through his windows. Once his eyes adjusted to the much brighter atmosphere, he realised who the destroyer of his safe, warm haven was.

"Malfoy, you smell like a girl," Harry groaned, trying to tug the covers out from underneath him and go into hiding again.

Draco smiled knowingly down at him. "Well, Potter, that's because I've spent the last twelve hours in the company of one," he gestured to the other side of the bed.

Harry followed the gesture to see Raven standing next to the window, wearing tight black trousers and a red sweater. She smiled and waved at him.

Harry groaned again, and renewed his efforts to hide. Raven leaped on him, straddling his waist and forcing him to prop himself back on his elbows.

"I hate you. Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate," Harry muttered, glowering up at Raven, who had him effectively trapped in his own bed.

The girl on top of him leaned down and pressed her lips against his, startling him into submission. By the time she pulled away, Harry was ruby-lipped and panting. "What was that for? I have a boyfriend," he said, trying to wiggle himself out from under her, and hoping she wouldn't notice his sudden half-hard-on.

Raven sat back, stopping his hips from their movement. Harry froze. "Really?" she said. "From the way Draco put it, you had such a _big,_ _public_ fight with him yesterday that I was certain you guys broke up." She arched an eyebrow at him.

Harry fell back, letting out an exhausted sigh. "No, we didn't, _Draco_, thank you very much. I'm just mad at him, okay? Now will you two let me go back to bed?" He tried tugging on the duvet trapped between him and Raven.

Draco leaned into Harry's face. "I know that Potter. And so does Raven. She was just trying to get your attention."

"Well a kiss sure beats yelling in my fucking ear. That really hurt, you know."

Draco smiled. "I know. I also knew you weren't really asleep. Your eyes were moving too much."

"I could have been having a nice dream, you know."

"Bollocks. Besides, that doesn't matter. You being a big lump of flesh all day does. I'm happy that you seemed to find your way back to civilization, though."

Harry kept Draco's gaze. "Thank you for leaving me alone when I asked you to." Harry was hoping Draco got the double entendre. He didn't.

Raven looked puzzled. "Have I missed something?"

Draco sat back. "I actually found Harry last night, after he disappeared. He was at the cove. He asked me to leave him alone for right then, so I did." He looked at Harry again. "Now is not then. You're getting up, Potter, whether you like it or not."

Harry grabbed his second pillow and pulled it over his head. "Like I said," came his muffled voice, "_hate_."

"Harry, stop being so difficult," said Raven, right before her fingers attacked his sides. Harry yelled, bucking and squirming and trying to get the blasted woman off of him. She just giggled and got under his arms, while Draco sat by and looked smug.

"D-damn you, Malfoy!" Harry managed.

"Moi? What did I do?"

"You let this—this _monster_ into my room!"

"It was her idea, Harry. Now stop struggling. Your breakfast has nearly gone cold."

Harry finally managed to playfully push Raven off of him and to the side, making a surprise lunge in the opposite direction and tackling Draco off the bed and onto the hardwood floor.

"Ow! Potter, you asshole!" Draco lay prone, Harry fully on top of him, and the bed sheets tangled up around them. "I'm getting really tired of you tackling me to this bloody _hardwood_ floor."

"That's what you _get_, Malfoy," Harry snarled softly. "I _said_ I was _up_." He pressed down hard on the blonde's wrists beneath him, pushing himself up and off of his friend.

Raven sat cross-legged on the bed, watching the boys with much amusement. Harry stood and turned to his breakfast tray sitting on the bedside table.

"It's a scone. And milk. How could it get cold?" Harry muttered, reaching forward and grabbing the sweet bread from the tray, biting off a corner.

Draco put his hands behind his head; relaxing back on the floor. "It got you out of bed, didn't it?"

"No, you being an arse did. Now get out. I need to put some clothes on," said Harry, scratching the bare skin of his stomach.

Raven stood, placing her hands on Harry's shoulders from behind and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "For posterity."

Harry grinned as he watched her cross to the door. "I shouldn't have, but I liked the first one, you know."

Raven grinned knowingly back. "I know."

Harry, trying not to blush, reached down and offered a hand to Draco, who took it and hoisted himself from the floor with Harry's help. Standing close to Harry, he said, "It was beautiful, watching you two." Harry glanced away, hoping to just ignore the comment. He was lucky this time when Draco said, "Don't take too long. We're going to the library."

The sleep-mussed boy cleared his throat. "Good. I was headed there myself."

"Perfect. We'll wait for you downstairs." And the two ex-Slytherins left.

Harry quickly finished his scone and gulped down his milk before throwing on a new pair of boxers, jeans, and an old Weasley jumper; the one Harry was sure he had worn the first time Draco had come over and woken him up, and they had gone to Celestine's.

_So much has happened since then, _Harry thought._ It's only been…what? A month, perhaps? And I've already realised so many things about myself I never would have if he would have just left me alone. I owe him and Raven a great deal._

_Not to mention a great amount of heartache,_ something reminded him.

_Yes. That too._

Forgetting about his hair, Harry put on his spectacles and shoved on a pair of trainers, grabbing a heavy cloak, his book bag, and the dirty tray before heading downstairs.

* * *

"What are you researching, Harry?" asked Raven. They were sitting at their favourite table, three from the back of the library, books spread all around them, and rolls of parchment piled precariously in various piles. 

"Chinese symbolism. I'm trying to find out what the marking on my necklace means." He fingered the amulet dangling from his neck.

"I thought it meant 'luck'."

"Ginny couldn't really remember, or rather, she wasn't really clear in the first place. I just thought I should find out for sure. I'm not finding a whole lot, though."

"You should get it checked for spells too, Harry," Draco chimed in.

Harry looked up at Draco. "I told you, if there were any magic on it, I would be able to feel it."

"Not necessarily, Harry. There are ways to conceal the use of magic on an object. And who knows what the Orientals have figured out over the years. They've got their own brand of magic."

"Don't you think I know that? I've been researching Chinese magic for a week now," Harry said, in a voice that was not _quite_ a snap.

"There's no need to get tetchy, Harry. I'm just suggesting you have someone else look at it, that's all."

Harry closed the book in front of him and sat back. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll work on something else now, let me just put these books away." Standing, he grabbed the references he was looking at and left the table.

Draco looked at Raven sitting next to him. She leaned forward. "Do you think it's the amulet?" she asked.

Draco nodded. "Yes. That's the second time he's gotten really defensive with me about having someone look at it. I really think it's because of some type of magic on the amulet. He won't let anyone touch it, and he won't take it off, either."

They broke apart as Harry came back to the table and sat down across from them.

"What are you two talking about? Me, I hope," he grinned, pulling out his History homework.

"Yes, actually. We want to check your necklace, Harry," Draco said. "Please?"

The grin fell right off Harry's face and his nostrils flared slightly. "Draco…" he warned.

Raven rose and come slowly around the table, sitting down in the seat next to Harry. "Harry, _please_. Can I at least look at it? You don't have to take if off," she quickly amended.

Harry watched her warily. "Alright," he finally said.

Raven reached slowly forward while Harry sat stiffly, watching her every move. As her hand neared his neck, she noticed the jade green of the amulet grow brighter, greener, more luminescent. Then it flashed briefly, like a stray beam of sunlight hit it for a second. But that couldn't be, Raven thought. Harry was sitting in front of the windows, his back facing them, and the windows faced West…the sun was South right now…

"Did you see that?" Raven asked, startled, blinking and frowning.

Harry frowned. "What? See what?" He and Raven looked to Draco.

Draco looked puzzled. "It got brighter, didn't it? Greener?"

"Yeah," Raven said, amazed. "I didn't imagine it then?"

"_What_? Imagine _what_?" Harry snapped. "What did you see?"

"Your amulet, Harry, it…I don't know, _flashed_ at me or something."

Harry touched the pendant. "Did you touch it?"

She shook her head. "No, my hand was a few inches away." She looked up at Harry. "Did you feel anything?"

Shaking his head he replied, "No. Nothing."

"Don't touch it, Raven," Draco warned as the girl reached forward again. "Move away. Let me get close and see what happens."

Harry now had a touch of fear in his eyes. "Should I take it off? I _really_ don't want to, but…"

Draco stood. "No. We don't want to trigger a reaction until we know what we might be dealing with. Have you taken it off at all? Since you put it on? To shower or anything?" Draco sat in the seat Raven just vacated.

"No," Harry said. "Like I said, I don't want to."

"Harry," Draco said patiently, "listen to yourself. Just listen. You might have a potentially dangerous magical artefact around your neck. And you don't _want_ to take if off? Regardless of the fact that until we know what it does, if anything, we shouldn't remove it, you _actively_ don't want to remove it. You become threatened and protective about it. Does that sound normal? Like it might not be influencing you?"

Harry's face closed off. His brow twitched, and Draco was looking so intently in Harry's green eyes that he saw the storm of warring logics warring in there. But his eyes were still clear. Draco could sense no trace of mind control. Just a loss of judgement, perhaps?

"Just see if it happens again," Harry said, his mouth tight.

Draco gritted his teeth and reached forward. He watched the amulet intensely, for any changes in the colour of the jade; any change in the brightness of the atmospheric light around the object dangling from Harry's neck.

Nothing.

Draco's fingers were a centimetre away, and nothing was happening. Nothing at all.

Draco glanced up to Harry. "Well?" the green-eyed man demanded.

Draco dropped his arm and looked back at Raven. She shook her head, puzzled. Turning back, Draco sighed and said, "No. Nothing. Nothing changed."

"Good," Harry snapped. "Now can we get back to our homework?"

Draco latched onto a passing thought like a drowning man. "It might be gender-specific, Harry. It doesn't affect you, and nothing happened with me, but we're both men. It _did something_ when Raven was close, so maybe it's-"

"Maybe it's nothing, Draco." Harry almost snarled, getting a few looks from some late newcomers to the library passing by their table. "And if you're going to keep bothering me about it, I'd rather stay at home." Harry stood abruptly, shoving quills and parchments and books into his bag. "Goodbye." And the upset young man brushed past them both and left the library.

Raven and Draco passed numerous questions with their eyes. None of them were answered.

* * *

**_Skeeter Trial Date Revealed! _**

**_And More News About Our Boy-Potter _**

**_By Merril Merryweather of the Daily Prophet_**

_In one of the most interesting stories to hit print since the end of the Second War of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, gossip and fact are more mixed than ever. Just last Monday, an interview with the man who sparked this newest wave of interest was printed in the resident eclectic-rag, The Quibbler, which supposedly shows its readers just what is fact, and what is fiction. However, what has happened since October 14th? Is there more to this story than meets the eye? _

_Between random and inconsequential questions by the interviewer, Luna "Loony" Lovegood, the editor's daughter, and Harry Potter's seemingly shy answers, there lies a real story just waiting to be revealed. He admits to liking more than just one person; and at least one of these is his current beau, B.I. Siren Quidditch Captain Mikhail Chaikovsky, but who are the others? As Rita Skeeter has previously hinted, and this reporter is starting to agree, one of these people might be Harry Potter's long-time rival, Draco Malfoy, a former and repentant Death Eater. _

_So, shall we sit idly by while one of our own, who was only trying to find the _real_ truth, is punished for doing so? Though this office will not disagree that Miss Skeeter's methods of gathering such information were questionable, the public has the right to know the truth. Why the lies, Potter? _

_Despite efforts of this office to help Miss Skeeter, her trial date has been set for January 5th. We hope that she is cleared of most of the charges, and her sentencing for being an unregistered Animagus is short and swift.

* * *

_

Hermione glared with such a force at the Prophet in her hand that all activity stilled around her. "Don't, Harry," she bit out. "Just don't read the paper."

"Why? What does it say?" He was watching her worriedly from across the breakfast table on Monday morning.

"You don't want to know. This…this _Merril Merryweather_…ugh! He's so contradictory! He claims worry for Skeeter's plight, yet implies that she should be punished for being unregistered! 'We hope that she is cleared of most of the charges, and her sentencing for being an unregistered Animagus is short and swift.' Bloody arsehole! Then, he goes on to accuse you of keeping your _private life_ a secret! It's none of their sodding business who Harry likes, even if it _were_ Malfoy!" Hermione was breathing hard by the time she was finished ranting.

Harry and Ron's eyes were very wide, and they looked at the other patrons of the table, checking for strange reactions to that last bit of information.

"But Harry doesn't like Malfoy that way, so it's not a big deal, is it?" Kevin asked, shovelling a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

"That's not the point, Kevin," Ron said, cutting Hermione's next rant off. "It's the fact that they think Harry's life, all aspects of it, are public domain, when obviously, they're not."

"Thank you, Ron," said Harry.

"You're welcome."

An owl tapped on the window glass behind Harry's head. He stood and opened the window, happily feeding the owl a bit of bacon before opening the letter addressed to him.

_27 October 2003_

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter, _

_We are writing to inform you that the trial date for Miss Rita Skeeter is set for __5 January 2004__. However, regardless of Law-Wizard Stanislav Chaikovsky representing you, you will be most likely called upon to testify, and therefore, your presence is required, whether or not you choose to participate. Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Mikhail Chaikovsky have also received a letter similar to yours. Thank you for your patience in the dealing of this matter. _

_Sincerely, _

_Madam Martha Mellowtide _

_Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement _

Harry set the letter down.

"What did it say?" asked Ron.

"Nothing I didn't already know," replied Harry.

* * *

Draco found Harry at the library that evening, sitting at a table that wasn't their usual (if one could count a month of sitting there together their usual); the one way in the back. He was surrounded by books, and had several stacks of folded and rolled parchment on one end, which he was obviously ignoring. 

Draco was catching a few curious looks as he strode through the library in his Quidditch robes. The team had waited fifteen minutes before Chaikovsky finally sent Draco away to look for Harry. Draco _knew_ that the captain didn't bother having Harry look for _him_ when he stopped showing up for practice last year, and Harry's performance never seemed to lack for it; they still seemed to win almost every game. Almost. Harry _had_ gotten better, Draco thought, but he didn't want to take the credit for his presence being the thing that made Harry work harder and do better. If anything, Harry was helping _him_, which was probably why Chaikovsky was making Draco miss practice to go track Harry down.

_Or he just wants Harry back on the team and you out of his hair. _

Yeah, that sounded about right.

He sat down across from Harry, setting his broomstick unceremoniously on the table, directly between Harry's books and his numerous stacks of parchment. "So that's it then?"

Harry looked up, staring blankly at Draco. "What's it?"

"You're just quitting the team, just like that."

Harry looked back down to the tome in front of him. "I thought I made that clear on Friday."

Draco leaned forward. "For Merlin-sakes, Harry. It's just a game! I told you I don't care. We both know you're better than I am. I honestly don't mind."

"Like hell you don't, Draco. You were just as pissed as I was, you just didn't show it."

Draco made a gesture that conceded the fact. "So what? I had my piece with Chaikovsky. He doesn't like me. I get it. But I can't make him not be an ass."

"So you agree with me? It's unfair that he's putting his feelings about you before the team."

"Yes, I agree. But Harry, you can't just quit Quidditch. It's _you_, it's who you are. I can live without it. But you, you are _far_ more natural on a broom than on land. You know this."

"My life isn't all about Quidditch, Draco. I love it, yes, but I love other things too. Like helping people. I want to be a medi-wizard."

"And you can do both. Don't quit Quidditch because your boyfriend is being a jerk-off. Keep pushing. Make him see he's wrong. He'll always be an ass, but maybe he'll see sense. I agree with you Harry, I really do. But I won't let you give this up, either. This isn't the way to make your point."

Harry sat back and mused for several minutes, the furrow on his brow tightening and relaxing as he thought.

"Fine. I'll talk with him tomorrow. Maybe we can agree to a compromise," he finally said.

Draco smiled. "Good. You're learning, Potter. Besides, he's your boyfriend, not just your captain."

"That's half of why this has made me so angry. You're my friend, Draco. If he can't accept my friends…then I don't know where this relationship is going."

Draco smiled to himself. _Just what I was thinking._

"So, what's all this here?" asked Draco, leaning forward to look at the books between them.

"Oh, more books on Asian magic and symbolism. I've decided to widen my search for the meaning to this amulet," he said, touching his necklace. Draco refrained from saying anything about taking it off. "I was focusing so much on China, that I wasn't finding that much information. Mostly things on Wizarding customs over there, or new inventions or types of magic. It's quite interesting, actually. I've heard of some of their healing techniques, like acupuncture, of course, and it's pretty neat. I might try learning some of it to incorporate into my medi-wizard practices. You should look at that book there-" he pointed to a small book partially hidden between two larger ones. "It's all about potions of the Orient. Could be useful."

"Thanks Harry."

"NO! No birds! Get it out! Don't let it touch the books!"

Harry and Draco turned to see Madam Peabody, the librarian screeching at a screech owl that had managed to get in and was making its way towards them. Draco heard Harry sigh heavily, and watched him accept the bird, untying the letter from its leg and putting it in the pile of parchment.

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Peabody yelled, continuing to disrupt her own library, "You must take that bird out of here at once! I cannot allow owls in my library!"

"I am sorry, Ma'am. It must have snuck in with a student. I'll take him out right now."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." She looked at Draco and sniffed, obviously still upset about the incident a few weeks ago with that book Raven had given them. "Mr. Malfoy."

"Madam Peabody, you're looking nice this evening."

She kept her mouth tight, and tilted her nose up, but Draco could see a faint blush on her neck. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy." And she walked back to her desk, escorting Harry and the owl to the door.

"So all of these are yours?" Draco asked when Harry returned.

Harry looked to the pile of parchments and grimaced. "Yes, unfortunately. Good will wishes, threats on my life, descriptions of my wonderful or sinful character, pictures of people I'd never want to meet and proposals of marriage, along with proposals of the _sexual_ nature…mostly from boys."

Draco's blond eyebrow raised. "Oh really?" he teased.

"Oh, shut up, you. I burn them all. I don't need their approval, or disapproval, or marriage proposals or their pictures or any of it."

"But _Harry_, they're your _adoring_ fans!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I went through that after the war, thank you. I don't care to deal with it again."

"Well, I wish I could be famous more often. I've had more letters from young, beautiful women in the last two weeks than I ever received from Raven during the war."

"No men?" Harry smirked.

Draco sneered. "That would be telling."

"You wouldn't actually entertain any of those letters, would you?"

Draco chuckled. "Of course not. Raven would kill me, and you're the only man who has my affections," he said so nonchalantly that it seemed as if it were common knowledge.

Harry blushed and looked away. "Do you want to help me finish up my potions chart?"

"Sure. Let me just go home and change. I'll meet you back here in twenty minutes."

"See you soon."

_Well_, Draco thought as he left the library. _At least he doesn't seem upset at me anymore. But I've _got_ to do something about that necklace.

* * *

_

"Harry! Harry!"

The man in question recognised the voice immediately and steeled himself as he turned around to face Mikhail.

"Harry," Mikhail said again, breathlessly, stopping his cross-courtyard jog just before Harry, who was on his way to his first lesson after lunch the next day.

"We need to talk," Harry blurted before Mikhail could say anything.

That made Mikhail pause, stunned, then let out his breath. "Yes, we do."

"But I don't have time right now, Mikhail; I'll be late for my next lesson."

"I know. But I just wanted to tell you that my dad's here."

"Excuse me?"

"My father. He's here. He wants to talk with you and me about the trial. And Draco," Mikhail added, last minute.

"Oh. Well, how about before practice? I don't have a fourth class today, and I'm pretty sure Draco doesn't either. Are Draco's law-wizards here too?"

Mikhail shook his head. "No, but my father tells me that they're only assisting. My dad's the leading prosecution."

"Alright. Have you told Draco yet?"

"No," Mikhail admitted, looking away. "I was actually wondering…if you would?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, that's fine. He's in my next lesson. Look, I've really got to go. I'll see you later," and he started walking away.

"Bye," Harry heard behind him, and he tried to ignore the mixed twinge of anger and dismay he felt at the note of sadness in Mikhail's voice.

* * *

"Why do _I_ have to come?" Draco plainly whined as he and Harry made their way into Rookwood. They were meeting Mikhail and his father at Celestine's. 

"I don't know. Mikhail said his father is acting as lead prosecution, so he'll be speaking for your law-wizards as well, since they're only assisting or something like that."

"Tsch. It's probably just a preliminary meeting, to give us a quick run-down of how things should proceed in the trial. And to get our statements."

"Oh." They walked a few moments in silence, nodding greetings at the few passers by.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you nervous?"

"About the trial? No. I know we'll kick Skeeter's arse."

"No, I meant about meeting Chaikovsky's father."

"Oh. Well…maybe a little. I don't know that much about Mikhail's family."

"And you're _not_ worried about what might come out at the trial?" Draco stopped just before Celestine's, waiting for an answer.

Harry took a deep breath and looked Draco in the eye. "Skeeter had _no_ proof about anything she wrote about. She made speculations based off of her _own_ desires for a story. But, should anything happen to come out…I'll deal with it like I always do. Head on and pushing through."

Draco smiled a soft smile that reminded Harry of how beautiful Draco was. "Me too; hopefully."

Smiling together, they entered the restaurant.

Mikhail and his father were seated near the back, in the same booth Harry and Draco had sat in, Harry was sure.

"Do I look okay?" Harry murmured as Mikhail spotted them and smiled, standing up and signalling them over.

"You look fine, Harry," Draco said, doing a subtle once-over of his friend. "Why does it matter?"

"Even though I'm mad at him, I'm still meeting my boyfriend's father, Draco. Surely _you_ recognise the need to make a good first impression?"

"You forget you're Harry Potter. Everyone already _has_ a first impression," muttered Draco quietly as they reached their destination.

"Harry!" Mikhail greeted, taking Harry by the shoulders and kissing him on the cheek. Harry gave him a soft and nervous smile.

A large man slid free of the bench seat. When he stood, it was clear he was at least five inches taller than his son, who was pushing six feet himself. He had dark hair, greyed at the temples, and wore fine robes in a nice navy-blue pinstripe. His dragonhide boots were polished and shone like the light reflecting off of the wire rims sitting on his large nose. He had a square jaw and bright brown eyes. His large stature was mostly due to his height, and not any amount of fat that Harry or Draco could see. Mikhail didn't particularly look like him, but must have gained the looks from his mother's side. Over all, Harry was intimidated. Draco was so-far impressed. The blond was still waiting for the man to speak and carry on business. Only then would he get Draco's full approval or disapproval.

"Harry, Draco, this is my father, Stanislav Chaikovsky. Father, this is Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Harry reached his hand forward with a bright smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chaikovsky."

"Please, Harry," he said in a deep accented baritone, "call me Stanislav."

"Alright."

"And Mr. Malfoy?" Stanislav shook hands with the blond. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the man behind the law-wizards."

Draco smiled a devilish grin. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Chaikovsky."

"Again, Draco, please call me Stanislav. 'Mr. Chaikovsky' makes me feel so old. It's only for the court." He chuckled and gestured everyone to sit, placing a silencing charm around their table.

As they slid into the booth, the Chaikovskys on one side and Harry and Draco on the other, Mikhail said, "Well, Dad, you _are_ fifty-three."

"Now, now, son. I am perfectly aware of how old I am. You're mother never lets me forget it." Stanislav winked at the young men across from him.

"You English is nearly perfect," Draco commented. "How long have you lived here?"

"Since 1969. Mikhail here was born six years later."

"He's a fine Quidditch captain," Draco said, smiling, and ignored the sharp look from Harry and the slight glare from Mikhail.

Stanislav smiled. "So I hear." He gave a meaningful look to his son before sweeping over to Harry, who was still looking at the blond rather crossly, but trying not to show it.

Clearing his throat he said, "Let's get this meeting started with some tea. Mikhail, if you would please?"

Mikhail nodded and left to go to the bar and ask Celestine for some tea service. Stanislav turned back to Harry and Draco.

"Now, Harry, I hear you and my son are in the midst of an argument?"

Extremely startled, Harry replied uncomfortably with, "Oh, er…not really, sir. Just a disagreement."

"He's told me all about it, Harry, there's no need to cover it up."

"So you know his side of it then," Draco put in.

Stanislav looked at Draco with calculating eyes. "Perhaps. But I also know my son. He's liable to get a bit jealous about people he cares a great deal for."

This made Harry blush. "Yes, sir. I believe that's why he won't let Draco play in the next game. He just doesn't like him."

"That is probably very true, Harry, and while I understand my son very well, I sympathise with you. I have advised my son to put his feelings aside and logically pick the best candidate."

"That's…very nice of you, Mr.—I mean Stanislav."

"Don't think anything of it, Harry. My son's as logical as a Ravenclaw and as stubborn as a Gryffindor, or so I hear. I went to school in Northern Europe. "

"You went to Durmstrang?" Draco asked.

"Yes. It was very cold there. I like this more temperate weather," Stanislav finished as Mikhail showed up with the tea. "Ah, thank you, Mikhail. Now, I take it you know what Skeeter is being charged with?" he asked the men around the table.

"Yes," Harry answered, pouring himself some tea with cream. "It's a much longer list than I thought she could be charged with."

Stanislav nodded, putting some biscuits on a plate for himself and waiting for Draco to finish with the tea. "I will _never_ tolerate the defamation of my son, or anyone he cares for, regardless of the reason. I want this woman in Azkaban. For life, if possible."

"I fully agree, Stanislav," Draco chimed in as he passed the tea to his elder.

"I believe this is an open and shut case, gentlemen. I will be accenting her use of blackmail and haggling to get a story, with the help of testimonies from you three. That is, if you'll all be willing to testify?"

"Yes, of course," said Harry, with nods from Draco and Mikhail.

"Excellent. Now, is there anything Skeeter might know that she hasn't told anyone that could cause us problems?"

Draco said, "Nothing that has any truth to it, sir. In her article, she alludes to the idea that Harry and I had a previous relationship, but that is untrue."

"Where did she get the idea, Mr. Malfoy?"

Mikhail and Harry leaned in slightly over their tea to listen to Draco's story. "Probably from a conversation she had with me shortly before the article had been printed. She came, asking for dirt on Harry, which I had supplied her with back when I was fourteen. Because of my reaction to her asking me, she uncovered that I was now friends with Harry. That was the end of the conversation. I gave her absolutely no information on Harry at all, and even threatened her if she dared to come near any of us again."

Stanislav nodded, musing. "So her article was based off of un-confirmed information. Unless she talked to someone who might want to make your lives un-pleasant?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure there are a number of people who might have wanted to be in the lime-light, but none of my real friends—the people I talk to—would ever say anything to her. They know her past history with me."

"And there was no previous relationship between you two?" Stanislav asked. Mikhail looked very intently at the men across from him.

"What?" Harry asked, startled. "No. No, there's never been anything but friendship between me and Draco."

"You're lying, Harry," Draco said, and Harry looked surprised. "We used to hate each other until a little over a month ago," Draco explained to Stanislav. Harry swallowed and nodded in agreement.

"Ah. I see." The man thought for a few moments. "The only thing I see coming back to haunt us is your quickly changed animosity for each other, which might seem odd to outsiders. However, that really has no bearing in Skeeter's use of her Animagus form, or her other methods of extracting a story, which is what she's being charged with. Also, your threat, Mr. Malfoy. It could be brought up, and we might have a charge against _you_ in the future. Can you remember exactly what you said?"

"I told her that if she dared to write a single thing about Harry, that I would personally ruin her life. She didn't get the message right away, so I told her again, at wand-point."

Stanislav nodded. "Well, the use of wand-point might cause more problems than we want, but your heart was in the right place. I'm sure I can spin this in a positive light. Now, I want you boys to know, that I will not let your personal lives get too involved here. But you need to think about what the Wizengamot and the defending attorney are going to be asking. Probably some rather personal questions, mainly to confirm that what Skeeter wrote was true, and therefore wasn't libel. Unfortunately, that means that if you don't wish to answer the questions, then you will most likely only be confirming them as true. So, I need you to be honest with me. Harry, have you ever seen Draco in a sexual way?"

Harry almost choked on his tea. "I, er…"

Mikhail spoke up. "I'll understand if you say yes, Harry. I might not like it, but even I can't deny that Draco is…good-looking." He looked as if he could take back any nice words he'd ever said about the blond, he would.

Harry looked intently at the tabletop, dismayed. "It's crossed my mind." Mikhail clenched his jaw, but nodded, accepting the information.

"Draco," Stanislav said, turning to the blond and taking the heat off of Harry, "have you ever seen Harry in a sexual way?"

Draco measured his words. "I am bisexual, Stanislav; but I prefer women. Harry has only recently realised he might like the same gender, and I've been there to _platonically _help him through that. So yes, I could say at some point I've seen Harry that way, but his friendship means more to me than that. I only wish for him to be happy. I even told him to go after Mikhail." _Not a total lie, at least. _

Draco watched Mikhail while he confessed that, and Mikhail's jaw tightened again. "I knew it," he muttered.

"Knew what, Chaikovsky? That I was the one who prompted Harry to ask you out, to try a relationship with a guy? Or that I only want Harry for myself? I have a girlfriend, and I just because I like men too doesn't mean I like having multiple relationships."

"That's not the point, Malfoy. I knew you liked Harry, and here's the confession to prove it!"

"Mikhail, Draco and I are just friends, and we're happy being and staying that way!" Harry said.

"Boys," Stanislav cut in, "this is what I'm talking about when I mean personal things will be brought up in the trial. You _cannot_ let your emotions control your answers."

"I have no problem with that, sir," said Draco. "I can control my emotions and my answers."

"I have no doubt of that, Draco. But Mikhail, you must pretend to like Mr. Malfoy if this is going to work. You showing _any_ animosity towards him will only blow open the can on your personal relationships, and everyone will believe every word Skeeter wrote. So all of you keep a tight reign on your selves, understand?"

Harry and Mikhail looked away, murmuring agreements. Draco looked Stanislav right in the eye. "Yes, sir," he answered.

"Good. Our next meeting will be before the trial. I will keep you all informed of any changes in the case, but I truly believe we've already won, gentlemen."

"Thank you, Stanislav," Harry said, standing.

They all slid out of the booth, and Stanislav shook their hands. "It is of no consequence, Harry. I am more than happy to help you and your friends at any time. Which reminds me…Mikhail told me you might have a friend who's looking for an internship?"

When Harry looked puzzled, Mikhail said, "Ron."

"Oh!" Harry said. "Yeah, sure, would you like to meet him, sir? He should be on his way to practice right now."

"Perfect! I will walk you men to the pitch then."

"I will need to stop by my place and get my gear," Mikhail stated.

"That's fine." And they left Celestine's, leaving a sum on the table and dismantling the _silencio_ from around the table.

They stopped by Mikhail's, and the other men waited outside while Mikhail went upstairs to grab his things.

"What floor does he live on?" Draco asked.

"The top," Stanislav said, looking up to the building behind them.

"514," Harry put in.

"Are those nice flats?" Draco asked.

"Not bad," Stanislav said. "Enhanced by spatial spells of course, hardwood lofts, really."

"I might look into a spot," said Draco. "For after graduation."

"Don't you have Malfoy Manor now?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but I don't want to live there just yet. Maybe when there are more people to fill it." Draco shook Stanislav's hand. "I must go get my own gear, sir. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"And you, Mr. Malfoy."

"I'll see you in a bit, Harry."

"See ya, Draco."

"He's a striking young man," said Stanislav, watching Draco depart.

"Yes, he is," replied Harry.

"You know, Harry, there is no harm in liking more than one person at a time. Just make sure that you're with the person you want to be with."

Harry looked up to the much taller Stanislav. "I want to be with your son."

Stanislav smiled a fatherly smile. "I'm not going to lecture you on not hurting my son, Harry. He can take care of himself. But don't let him push you around, either. Push back. He can be as stubborn as you sometimes, I'm sure. Just don't let him get the best of you."

Harry smiled. "I won't, sir. I promise."

"Good."

Mikhail arrived then, carrying his uniform in a bag and his broom over his shoulder. "Where's Malfoy?"

"He went to go get his things," Harry explained. "He said he'll meet us at the pitch."

"Okay." And they started off again, reaching the pitch in a little over five minutes at the fast strides of Mikhail and his father. Harry almost had to jog to keep up with them, which amused Mikhail to no end.

When they arrived at the pitch, most of the team was already in the locker room, getting ready. Draco showed up a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to go, nodding and smiling at the three men before kicking off into the air for some personal flying time before practice. "Let me go get Ron," Mikhail said, disappearing into the locker room.

Five minutes went by in silence, Harry not sure what to talk about, watching Draco as he flew languorously through the air. Stanislav watched the blond as well, and glanced at Harry every so often to see if he couldn't glean what the man was thinking.

Finally, Ron came out with Mikhail, looking a little nervous and running his hand through his messy red hair.

"Father," Mikhail said as they approached, "this is Ron Weasley. Ron, meet my father, Stanislav Chaikovsky."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Ron said, shaking the large man's hand. Ron _was_ six-foot, so it was little unnerving for him to meet someone even taller than he.

"No need to be so formal, Ron, but it's a pleasure to meet you as well. My son tells me you might be looking for an internship before graduation?"

"Oh, well, I honestly don't know much about Wizarding law, sir, but I'm a good strategist, and I'd like to make the effort to try something new."

As Stanislav appraised Ron with his eyes, Mikhail gently took Harry by the arm and walked him a few metres away to talk in private.

"We need to talk, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Well, other than the fact that you obviously don't like that Draco might think I'm attractive, what do you have against him? He's done nothing to you, and he's a wonderful Seeker."

"That may be, Harry, but I just don't like him. Have you ever met someone who you immediately didn't like?"

"Yes, but for Merlin-sakes, Mikhail, you've known him as long as you've known me! You put us on the team at the same time!"

"Yeah, and he's on the back-up team for a reason. You were better."

"And now _he_ is! He's made the effort, Mikhail, and you even said that so yourself."

"I just don't trust him, Harry! He's a Slytherin!"

Harry stopped and glared at Mikhail. "Don't you dare bring that shite up. It means nothing now, Mikhail, and you know that. He's different than he was even a month ago, but you can't see it. Or don't want to. But I have, or I never would have become friends with him." Harry stepped a bit closer, his arms crossing over his chest. "And let me tell you, I won't get back on the team if you're going to keep putting your personal feelings before your team's well-being. You set up the auxiliary team for a reason, to give those players that couldn't truly make the cut the chance to get better and to play. You're preventing Draco from doing that just because you don't like him. It's bullshit. And I'll only get back on the team to help Draco prepare for Saturday's game. Otherwise, forget it."

Mikhail stared down at his boyfriend, his mouth parted slightly, quite aware that he was in awe and gaping because of it. His boyfriend was utterly _sexy_ when he was angry. His eyes were a dark, stormy green, and his pink cheeks only became redder, and the scar on his forehead screamed in its own anger. Mikhail had to swallow his own mistakes and failings and pride and simply nod.

"Okay, Harry. Draco will play on Saturday. I'm sorry I've been such an arsehole."

The storm in Harry's eyes softened, and they became a clearer, brighter green. "Apology accepted. But I think you need to apologise to Draco more. I'll go get my uniform. I might be a little late."

"That's fine. I'm just glad you're back." Mikhail smiled.

Harry smiled softly back. He reached up and gave Mikhail a swift hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back soon."

"Bye." Mikhail watched Harry walk away, both lighter and heavier at the outcome of the conversation. Now he just needed to call Malfoy out of the sky to apologise. _Please don't let him make this difficult_, thought Mikhail as he walked back towards the pitch.

* * *

"There _are_ mounds of paperwork, son. I won't lie about that; but nothing's more satisfying than strategising a wining prosecution and _actually_ winning." 

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "It seems like a wonderful profession, Mr. Chaikovsky."

"Well, I'm glad you think so, son. Assuming you're not just saying that," Stanislav winked at Ron, causing the younger man to blush.

"No, sir. Truly, it seems very interesting. I'd love to learn more about it."

"Getting along alright, you two?" Mikhail asked as he walked past them to the pitch.

"Wonderfully," Stanislav replied. Turning to Ron he said, "Look, Ron, I'd like for you to come in a few days a week next term, learn the ropes and see if this is still something you'd like to do. It would be nice to have some help in the office. You said you'll be living in London?"

"Yes sir! I'd love that. Thank you for the opportunity."

"No problem, Ron. I'm happy to help. Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine." He shook Ron's hand. "I must be getting back to the office, however. I'll contact you in January with more details."

"Thank you again, Mr. Chaikovsky."

"Have a good evening, Ron."

"You too, sir."

Stanislav made his way over to where Mikhail and Draco were talking quietly. "Son," he said loudly as he approached. "I'm taking my leave. It was a lovely day."

"Oh, okay. _Bud' zdorov, Papa. Pereday privet Mame_"(1)

"_Ya lublu tebya, syn. Pozabot'sa o Harry._"(2)

"_Do svidaniya, Papa_."(3)

"_Do svidaniya, syn_. It was nice to meet you, Draco."

"You too, sir." They shook hands. "I wasn't aware you spoke fluent Russian," said Draco to Mikhail after Stanislav Apparated away.

"At least there's one thing you don't know about me."

"I did my homework, Chaikovsky, but that doesn't necessarily mean I know _everything_ about you. Though I probably should have figured that out when I learned that your parents are native Russians."

"Stop prying into my life, Malfoy."

"I didn't, really. Just some basic questions, like what House you were in, what kind of family you come from, that sort of thing. Most of that information was readily available from my law-wizards, who apparently know your father fairly well."

"Look, all I wanted to do was apologise and tell you that Harry's back on the team, and that you're in the line-up on Saturday. The team's gathering and I need to start practice."

"Okay. Apology accepted. As long as you mean it."

"I do. I really wasn't thinking about the team."

"Glad you realised it," and Draco left, meeting up with the team.

Mikhail shook his head, still uncomfortable with the blond, but realising that Malfoy really wasn't the complete ass Mikhail thought he was. But he _still_ didn't want him near Harry so much. Their possible attraction to each other could lead itself places that Mikhail was _not_ keen on it going.

Ever. Harry was his.

Mikhail approached his players. "Okay, team! Harry's back on, Draco's playing on Saturday." Just then, Harry flew over the trees and right to the pitch, and the team welcomed him warmly back as he dismounted. "I got word from the team in Berlin. Since we're arriving on Friday, which is All Hallow's Eve, they're throwing a masquerade ball in our honour. Their whole school will be attending, and everyone will be masked, including us. So find a nice outfit before Friday, got it?"

* * *

"God, I hate dressing up," said Ron, adjusting his robes. "Do you remember the Yule Ball at Hogwarts?" 

Harry laughed, pushing Ron aside so he could look in the full-length mirror that stood in their room at the inn in Berlin. "Yes. You looked god-awful."

"Gee, thanks, Harry."

"Well, you did! But you look much better now," said Harry, gesturing to Ron's plain black dress robes with gold piping. "Besides, you'd better get used to being dressed up. You're getting married in a month and a half."

"Oh, don't remind me."

"Nervous?"

"I don't know why. I love Hermione, I always have. I mean, we're practically married anyway! I can't believe it took me so long to really ask her. Either one of us could have died just a few years ago."

Harry put on his plain white mask. "I know. But you asked her. Or, rather, she threatened to break up with you unless you married her, but still, you're getting married, and soon, there will be lots of little frizzy, red haired Weasleys running around."

Ron chuckled. "Assuming Hermione's career doesn't take over her life first. I swear, that girl is so set on changing the world."

"And you know she will, too."

"Yeah." Ron put on his gold mask. "Ready?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep. Let's go."

* * *

Ron and Harry met the rest of the team in the common area of the inn they were staying at. Everyone was there, including Meghan and the rest of the back-up team. Since they were the Siren's only support, they came along with the team, while everyone who wanted to watch the game would Apparate to the game site the next morning. University Quidditch matches were a little like an informal World Cup, in Harry's opinion. 

Immediately, Harry's eyes were drawn to the tall blond near the back of the group. Draco was stunning as usual, Harry thought, in deep, deep blue, almost black robes, highlighted in shimmering silver piping and lacings. He was wearing a white shirt underneath a navy brocade corset top, with attached sleeves that laced up over the white undershirt with silver rope. His trousers were also navy and fit elegantly straight down to his shiny dragonhide boots. His outer-cloak was that blue-black colour in velvet, and had a braid of lacings down the centre, as if you could unlace it and it would become two. It swirled around his ankles as he turned to look at Harry. He wore a silvery white mask that made his hair look whiter than it really was, like it had been when they were eleven.

"Hello, gorgeous," a voice said from behind him, and Harry turned to see his boyfriend.

"Hi," Harry said shyly, looking at his boyfriend's expensive-looking robes with admiration and a little bit of lust.

Like Draco, Mikhail was in dark blue, but it was accented in gold and had an entirely different cut. The undershirt peeking through was a shiny golden material, covered in deep blue jacket with a standing collar, which fit Mikhail closely. His trousers fit a bit tighter as well in the thigh, reminding Harry a little of the outfits that the matadors in Spain wore. However, the navy cloak Mikhail wore was lined in gold and swept the floor as Mikhail stood there. His mask was golden like Ron's, but had glitter all over it.

"You look really nice, Mikhail." Harry could feel his face heating up underneath his mask. He felt so plain in his green robes. They were almost identical to the ones he wore at the Yule Ball, but had little accents of silver threaded into the fabric that looked like little serpents, if you looked at them the right way. He had bought it for a function that happened shortly after the war; a charity effort to raise money by those un-touched by the destruction, for those who were.

"You look stunning, Harry."

"Not compared to you, you look-"

"Like a doll," Mikhail cut in. "You look natural. That's what I like about you. You don't try to impress anyone."

That made Harry flush darker, and Ron grinned like an idiot next to his best friend.

"Shall we head off?" Mikhail asked everyone, placing his hand lightly in Harry's, not pushing, but gently tugging Harry out of his residual anger at Mikhail, like he had been trying to all week. Everyone murmured their assent to Mikhail's question, and they all Apparated away.

* * *

They arrived in front of a large building hidden from Muggle view. It was very tall, with several domes, one of which was made of glass and shone a bluish-gold light into the night sky. The columns at the base and top of the large stone staircase in front of them rose into high-arched ceilings that shined whitish-gold. There were many wizards and witches entering, all wearing masks. One however, was coming down the massive staircase towards them, dressed in black and wearing a red mask. 

"_Guten Abend_!"(4) the blond man said, approaching, as Mikhail stepped to the front of the group to return the greeting.

"Good evening!"

"I trust you and your team made it to Berlin okay, Mikhail?" the man said in a rich German accent.

"Yes, we did, thank you. And how are you doing, Christian?"

"Quite well. I'm looking forward to beating you tomorrow." Christian smiled wolfishly behind his mask.

Mikhail laughed. "We'll see, Christian, we'll see. I've got a pretty good team this year."

"So I hear. Well, let us get all you gentlemen inside. Oh, excuse me miss," he said to Meghan, bowing. "Ladies first."

"Don't even think about it," Harry heard Mikhail say in Christian's ear as Meghan passed by.

"Yes, but I can look, can I not?"

"Suit yourself. She's not a pushover."

"Obviously, she's your manager." And Christian wandered off towards the party, offering to escort Meghan up the stairs. "You're looking stunning in your dress tonight, Meghan," Harry heard him say as Mikhail took his hand and led the rest of the team up the flight of stairs. "_Wunderschön_."(5)

"Do you dance, Harry?" Mikhail asked as they went up the stairs.

"Er…no. I'm terrible."

"If you need a dance partner, Chaikovsky, I wouldn't mind," Draco said from behind them.

Mikhail turned around, an obvious mixed look of bewilderment and disgust on his face. "No thank you, Malfoy." He turned to Harry. "Don't worry, I can teach you."

"Er…okay. But don't be disappointed. I really don't know how. You should take up Draco's offer."

Mikhail chuckled. "I'm sure you'll do fine with a little tutelage."

"If you say so…but it's your funeral."

Mikhail laughed again and they entered the foyer of the grand building.

"Hey, Christian," Danny Darby yelled from the back of their little group, "What building is this?"

Christian turned around and started walking backwards, still escorting them inside. "This is our _Regierung für die Magie_. Our ministry of sorts. We get permission to have the ballroom for our large functions." He turned and they were at a station similar to the one at the British Ministry of Magic; one where you weighed in your wands.

They all got out their wands and had them weighed, before following Christian through a long hallway with a vaulted ceiling, which shone whitish-gold like the one out doors. There were all sorts of magical creatures painted above them, which moved around and interacted with each other. Harry saw unicorns, hippogriffs, manticores, augureys and many others. It was interesting to watch. A few times, Harry almost tripped over his robes, he was so engrossed in what he was looking at, and Mikhail had to catch him. Once, Harry felt a hand on his hip, and knew it must have been Draco, but he didn't turn to look at him.

They finally entered the ballroom, a high-ceilinged room with the glass dome in the middle, and twinkling gold and blue-white lights dancing everywhere. Deep gold banners with a rich purple were hung up across the walls, sparkling hippogriffs marching across them; and a few Green banners held the German Ministry for Magic's emblem. The room was large, and along the far wall was a long table full of food and drinks, and in the far corners, there were openings to the outside gardens. The ballroom was full of masked witches and wizards, chattering away in German, drinking punch, and dancing. Although Harry couldn't understand a word of German, the music was nice, and he felt like with Mikhail, Ron and Draco there, he might actually have a good time.

Once inside, everyone broke up, Ron sticking to Harry's side, and Draco, not really knowing where to go since he wasn't friends with anyone on the team but Harry, tagged along. He felt like a fifth wheel. It was not a feeling he was accustomed to.

Christian went up to the stage and halted the quintet playing there to get everyone's attention. "Witches and wizards, I welcome you to the Masquerade Ball of Berlin Magical University! First of all, I'd like to welcome our guests, the British Institute's Sirens, and remind you all to play nice, because we're going to play dirty tomorrow!" Everyone laughed. "Secondly, please enjoy yourselves to some lovely refreshments, made by our wonderful Magical Foods department. Have a good evening!" He repeated this in German, but it seemed as though most of everyone knew what he had already said. Christian left the stage, and the quintet started up again.

Draco immediately stuck to the nearest wall he could find, and when Chaikovsky finally got Harry on the dance floor, Weasley came over and joined him.

"You look a right side better than you did last time I saw you dressed up, Weasley."

Ron smirked and handed him a glass of punch. "I'll take that as a compliment, Malfoy, thank you."

"It was actually meant to be one, so you're most welcome." Draco never took his eyes off of Chaikovsky and Harry, where they stood on the edge of the dance floor, Chaikovsky taking Harry gently through the steps. Harry laughed as he stumbled and Chaikovsky caught him. Draco downed the punch, wishing it were spiked already.

"Who would have ever thought we'd be standing here like this, when back at Hogwarts, it was all we could do to make the other suffer?" said Weasley.

"Yes, who'd have thought. I'm getting more punch. Do you want anything?"

"Some food would be nice."

"You never change, Weasley."

"Neither do you, Malfoy," Ron said as he watched Malfoy walk towards the refreshment table. Ron watched Malfoy carefully as he poured two glasses of punch and filled a small plate with some food. All of which he seemed to muse over and pick only the best. Then, he watched as Malfoy wandlessly levitated Ron's plate and punch to him as he walked behind it.

"So you did it wandlessly."

"Sorry?" Draco asked as he approached.

"You wandlessly levitated yourself up to Harry's room last Friday night, didn't you?"

Draco scowled. "Thank you for reminding me of what I saw, Weasley."

Ron took his plate and extra punch before it fell and put it on an empty table nearby. "And just what did you see, Malfoy? And what right did you have, spying on Harry like that?"

"Godammit, Weasley, I didn't _mean_ to see anything, I already told you! All I saw was Harry and Chaikovsky making out, alright? Then Harry pushed him away. That's it, that's all I saw. I'm not proud of it, dammit!"

Ron looked at Draco for a long minute. "You really love him, don't you? And it's eating you up inside that you can't have him, isn't it?"

"What are you on about now?"

"You love Harry. Admit it."

Draco sneered and got right in Ron's face, almost matching him for height. "Listen carefully, Weasley. My feelings for Harry are my own, and no one else's. And _who_ knows them is up to me as well. Stay out of it, alright? What I need to tell Harry is only mine." Setting his drink down, Draco stalked over to Harry and Mikhail.

_Oh shit, _thought Ron_. This isn't going to be good, whatever it is.

* * *

_

"May I cut in?" Mikhail heard from behind him, in that unmistakable Malfoy drawl.

"Malfoy, I'm still teaching Harry, here-"

"I meant with you, Chaikovsky."

That stunned both dark-haired men, and Harry smiled warily. "As long as he returns in one piece," Harry told Malfoy.

Malfoy smiled in a disarming way. "I think he could take me," he said to Harry.

Harry laughed, and moved off to speak with Ron. Conveniently or not, the song ended and a new one started. "Do you know this one, Malfoy?"

"Yes, but who's leading?"

"How about me. I'm taller."

"That's a weak argument."

"Not if I was trying to call you a girl."

"And that's a weak insult. I'm one of the best, Chaikovsky. It's best not to try to out-do me in the Slytherin department." Malfoy let Chaikovsky take him in the standard pose and they were off onto the dance floor, melting in with the other dancers.

"Why did you bother to ask me to dance, Malfoy?"

"Because you're our sexy Quidditch Captain. Why else?"

"Cut the bullshit."

"I'm not lying. You could admit that you think I'm good-looking, and I'm just admitting the same."

"I think you're lying, Malfoy. You only want Harry."

"And so what if I do? How does that relate to me thinking you're good-looking?"

"Merlin. Malfoy, would you just cut it out? I don't want to play your sick little games! Just leave Harry alone!"

Draco pulled Mikhail closer to him. "You know that's not going to happen, Chaikovsky, so why don't you just stop asking?"

Mikhail leaned forward to speak into Draco's ear as they moved to the centre of the circle of dancers, where they stopped dancing. "Harry's with me, Malfoy."

"I know," Draco whispered hotly into Mikhail's own ear. The Chaser tried to ignore the pleasant shivers that ran down his spine.

"Then why won't you leave us alone?"

"Because it's not that simple, Chaikovsky. It has nothing to do with you. I'm Harry's friend. The faster you accept that, the better." And then Malfoy left Mikhail standing in the middle of the dance floor.

Mikhail clenched his teeth, and left to collect his boyfriend. Maybe he could catch a kiss or two and he'd feel better. Merlin, this situation _sucked_.

* * *

Harry smiled brightly as he approached Ron, who was standing near the wall, picking at a small plate of food, looking a little morose. 

"Everything okay, Ron?"

Ron smiled weakly. "Yeah, Harry. Just wish 'Mione were here."

"She'll be here tomorrow, I promise. It's really too bad we couldn't bring more of our people to this thing."

"I wholeheartedly agree."

"So, what did you and Draco talk about?"

"Who said we were talking?"

"Well, you were standing next to each other, and I do believe I saw him get you that plate of German delicacies."

"So? Maybe I asked him to get me something."

"Ron, I don't believe for _one second_ that you would ask Draco to get you something and he would actually comply. Besides, I was dancing, not blind. I could see you."

"Okay, fine. We were talking, alright? He complimented me, I said thank you, and then we started disagreeing again, so he left to go bother your boyfriend."

"Ron, what were you arguing about now?" Harry put his hands on his hips and looked quite like the little green-eyed warrior he was. At least, to Ron's six-foot eyes.

"You, as usual. Look, it's always going to be this way, Harry. But we _are_ trying. Now, aren't you more worried about what Malfoy's going to do to your boyfriend over there, or what Mikhail's going to do to Malfoy?"

Harry whirled around and scanned the crowd of people dancing, happy that the tables surrounding the dance floor were raised up several steps, and therefore, Harry could look down from slightly above.

He found his two men twirling near the centre, and it looked like Mikhail was leading. Harry didn't know much about dancing, and that was fine. He was perfectly happy watching Mikhail or Draco do those fancy steps he'd never get the hang of. They were so close together, and from where Harry was standing, they looked like a couple. Both dressed in blue; one gold, one silver; one with hair almost black as night, the other, with hair almost brighter than sunlight…the picture made Harry melt on the spot. They twirled and twirled, until Harry couldn't tell the difference between the two, they just became one being, someone he _wanted_, and the sooner, the better.

Then it broke apart, this one godly person, and Harry wasn't sure who appeared in front of him a few moments later, but he saw sunlight, and knew, somehow, that it was Draco. There had been a slow burning his groin all night, from seeing Draco dressed so nicely, then Mikhail, and it was all a blur. But Harry took action as soon as Draco got close enough. He pulled him close and kissed him, hard, not caring at all who saw, or how it could get in the newspapers the next day or anything of that. They were still in costume, so who would know? Everyone looked alike here, Harry thought. And then Draco kissed him back, oh, he did, and Harry knew nothing but bliss. Nothing tasted sweeter, and nothing felt better, than being in this man's arms.

Breaking away, he said, breathing hard, "Let's go outside."

Then he dragged Draco outside, and the blond complied completely, his voice lost. Ron watched the two go, a mixture of unease and surprise hidden by his golden mask.

* * *

On his way off of the dance floor, Draco ran into a tall blond masked in red. 

"I'm sorry. Excuse me," Draco said, trying to move around the other man.

"No, that is quite alright. Hey," the blond said as Draco tried to walk away, "are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine; I'd just like to go back to the inn, if that's alright."

Christian frowned. "It doesn't sound like you are fine. What's your name?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy… Oh, you're the Seeker for this game, aren't you? Instead of Potter?"

"Yes."

Christian held out his hand. "My name is Christian Albrecht. I'm Seeker and Captain of the Berlin Hippogriffs."

Draco took his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Would you like me to escort you out? Or, perhaps, you need some punch? That usually makes people feel better."

"What happened to Meghan?" Draco asked.

"Oh, well, she slapped me when I got too fresh with her."

Draco laughed. "You're already my type of bloke. Come, let's get some of that punch. I'm assuming it's spiked by now?"

Christian chuckled. "Let us hope. Though I'd rather go for a stiff drink, but we've got to look respectable you know. University and the Ministry relations are at stake, after all."

"I won't tell, I promise."

After a few drinks and a few funny stories told by Christian, he asked Draco, who was also getting tipsy, "Are you gay, Draco?"

Draco, surprised by the question, almost dropped his punch. "What? No, why?"

"Well, I saw you dancing with your captain, who I knew liked men, but I thought he was holding hands with someone else earlier…so I was wondering."

"Oh, that. I did ask Chaikovsky to dance, but not because of that. We don't care for each other much, you could say. I just needed a few words. The bloke you saw him with earlier is Harry Potter, a really good friend of mine."

"Ah, the protective best friend bit. And yes, now that you mention it, Mikhail and Potter dating does sound a bit familiar."

"It's all over our own paper back in England. All trash. They don't know a thing."

"And I suppose you do?" Christian asked, leaning forward.

Draco leaned in conspiratorially. "I know everything."

Christian grinned wolfishly again behind that red mask of his. "Not everything, I'm sure."

"What, you mean you _aren't_ bi and you _haven't_ been hitting on me for the last ten minutes?" Draco joked, smiling devilishly.

"Well, you really do know everything."

"No, I'm just observant."

When Christian leaned in to kiss Draco, two things occurred to Draco: he realised less than a second after he was being kissed that he _was_ being kissed and that his words earlier that week about not liking multiple relationships would become a lie if Chaikovsky saw them, or hell, anyone that recognised his outfit saw him; and two, if Harry or Ron saw him he'd be a dead man. His semi-tipsy mind was suddenly very clear.

He pulled away quickly. "Christian, I told you, I'm not gay," he said as gently as he could. The blond-haired, blue-eyed man was pretty, as far as Draco could tell, and smelled awfully good, but he just _couldn't_. It wasn't even a matter of beauty really; he knew male beauty, but he only wanted Harry. Harry was the only man that sparked Draco's interest. His every breath was wishing he could be kissing Harry right now, surrounded by people and twinkling lights and beautiful music, but it just wasn't happening. _Merlin, when did I become so god-forsaken _soppy

Christian looked put out. "But you are bi, I can tell."

"Even if I were, Christian, I'm in a relationship. With a girl. A very nice and gorgeously sexy girl who will kill me when she arrives tomorrow because she'll _know_ I was kissed. I don't know how, but she will, trust me. And she's very mean."

"Then why are you dating her?"

"It's a long story, but basically, I love her, and I'd do anything to please her."

"You are really being no fun, Draco." Christian crossed his arms and pouted.

"No, Christian, I'm really not. I'm sorry. And don't pout. Pouting doesn't work on me and it's unbecoming on you. Besides, we're playing _against_ each other tomorrow. I think we should save some of this energy for on the pitch, don't you think?"

"Oh, _du gewinnst._ You win. _Du frecher Kerl_."(6) Christian swallowed down the last of his punch and rolled his eyes at Draco before swaggering off and immediately picking up another young lady from the Berlin Magical University.

Draco sighed, happy to be out of that precarious situation. But being kissed didn't help any. Tomorrow, before and after the game, regardless of who won, Draco was going to snog Raven like his life depended on it. Because snogging Harry wasn't an option right now, and Raven's kisses really did make things feel all better.

More punch would have to do, he mused to himself, serving himself up another glass before throwing caution to the wind and deciding to ask the girl smiling at him from across the dance floor if she'd like to have the next dance.

* * *

Once outside, Harry pulled Draco to a railing to which he perched himself upon, dragging the blond between his legs. He resumed kissing him, snogging him senseless, pushing at the collar of the blue robes so he could get to that pale neck. He wanted it. He wanted him. _So_ badly. 

Harry felt his own lips on Draco's neck, and his own hands running down the front of Draco's shirt, then to his trousers, where he felt hardness and rubbed it to make it harder and bigger.

"Oh, Harry," Draco whispered. "_Ty ochen krasiv, Harry. Ya hochu tebya._"(7)

"What?" Harry whispered in confusion. He didn't know Draco could speak another language. It sounded pretty, though.

"_YA l'ubl'u tebya, Harry_. I love you."(8)

Harry finally pulled back, blinking at the man in front of him. The man took off his mask, and Mikhail, his beautiful, caring, doting boyfriend was standing in front of him.

Oh no. Things were wrong. The man in front of him wasn't Draco. Oh god.

"Harry? Harry, are you okay?"

But Mikhail knew it the second he saw Harry's face. His boyfriend didn't know who he'd been kissing, but whoever it was, he didn't expect it to be Mikhail.

_Malfoy_. The first traitor that came to Mikhail's mind. Harry had no problems if it was someone other than Mikhail he was with, it seemed, and it made Mikhail furious.

"I'm going back to the inn, Harry. You can go snog who ever it is you thought you were kissing." Mikhail walked away before Harry could even think of a reply.

Harry remained outside for a few more moments, unable to even process what had just happened. Eventually he made his way dazedly towards the exit. As he walked, a sense of urgency—a sense of overwhelming dread—washed over him and he started to run, hoping to out-run the feelings before they consumed him. He was sure he felt Ron come up beside him, but didn't really realise it until they were outside at the Apparition point and Ron finally grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Harry! Harry, what happened?"

That was when Harry broke down, crying. He didn't really care. He just grabbed a hold of Ron and held on tight. "Home," he murmured. "Home."

Ron knew he couldn't just Apparate them both out of there and into England without the proper papers, so he took them to the closest place; the inn.

Once in their room, Ron led Harry to one of the beds. "Harry, please tell me what happened."

"_Draco_. I thought Mikhail was _Draco_," Harry sobbed.

Ron closed his eyes in weary dread. _Oh shit,_ was all he could think. He took his best friend into his arms and gave him a handkerchief.

"I can't tell you that it's going to be okay, because I don't know if it's going to be okay. Did Mikhail find out you thought he was Draco?"

Harry shook his head in Ron's shoulder. "Maybe not that I thought he was Draco, but he knows I thought he was someone else! _Fuck_!" came Harry's sobs and Ron closed his eyes again and let him weep.

* * *

** Translations: **Please remember, that these translations are pretty direct, and have no reference to current slang and lingo in their respective countries. Any help from native speakers is most appreciated! 

(1) "Будь здоров, папа. Передай привет маме" **Translation**: "Take good care of yourself/Be healthy, Father. Greetings to mum."

(2) "Я люблю тебя, сын. Позаботься о Гарри." **Translation**: "I love you, son. Take good care of Harry." I really wanted to say something more like, "Be good to Harry" but it doesn't translate properly, so I chose the next best thing.

(3) "До свидания, папа./До свидания, сын." **Translation**: "Goodbye"

(4) **Translation**: "Good Evening!"

(5) **Translation**: "Beautiful."

(6) **Translation**: "Oh, you win… Brat."

(7) "Ты очень красив, Гарри. Я хочу тебя." **Translation**: "You're beautiful, Harry. I want you."

(8) "Я люблю тебя, Гарри." **Translation**: "I love you, Harry."

**A/N: **_I'm hoping to reply to reviews tomorrow morning, but we'll see. Also, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out; I got slightly burnt out finishing this chapter (even though it was fun!), and have been working on other things, like my portfolio. So, because the new quarter will be starting on Monday, and it's my LAST quarter (woo!), I'm warning you all that there might possibly be a **three to four month break** here. I feel badly about this, you don't know how much, but I will write whenever my schedule allows me. Oh, and hey--have you all seen _"Superman Returns"_? AWESOME. I love working at a theatre...to bad it's all going to shite now...that's long story for another time. And, for some reason, a week after _"Superman"_ (aka: THIS Friday), we're getting it replaced with _"Pirates of the Carribean 2"!_ Which is totally awesome, but too bad for "_Superman_". However, _"Pirates" _has a better staying time, you know? Meh, you probably don't, but that's okay. I'm done rambling now._

_P.S. I've put up some new artwork in the art section of my site, so go check it out, especially if you haven't yet! The link is on my userpage. _


	24. The Conversation Game

_Chapter Notes: Hey everybody! I'm happy to say, I managed to get this chapter out really fast! But, of course, this means that chapter twenty-four is not going to be coming out any time soon. Sorry! For more info on that, you can visit my website (it's on my profile page) and read my story blog._

_In other stuff, this chapter...I'm not _entirely_ happy with, but I've fiddled with it so much, and my betas have assured me it's great, so I guess it is! My betas, again are **IcyAurora8 **and **Michelle**. **Andy **helped me with the German, and **Alfirin Kirinki** indirectly helped me with writing the Welsh dialect in this first scene. It's a little hard to look at written, but just relax and think about how people generally talk in a very informal way. It's sounds like that. :)_

_Kudos and cookies to anyone who can figure out what "MCV" stands for and what "something green" is._

_**Dedication:** To Daniel Radcliffe, on his 17th birthday. This twenty-third chapter on this twenty-third day of July._

**

* * *

Chapter XXIII - The Conversation Game

* * *

**

_**Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.**_

**Speech, 14 Feb 1923, Rudyard Kipling**

* * *

He tossed, turned, then rolled over and planted his face in his pillow, groaning. Sleep wasn't working. It wouldn't ever work, he thought. And his game would suffer tomorrow for it. But who was he kidding? Who cared about the bloody game when his feelings were torn asunder? 

"Mikhail?" came Danny's sleepy voice, "You alright?"

Mikhail raised his head slightly. "Mmm… Yeah."

"You sure? You seemed really outta it when I got home."

"Just got a lot on my mind," Mikhail sighed, rolling back over.

Danny shifted his sleeping position on his stomach. "Harry-related?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Mate, Stu said he saw you storm out of the ball, and I saw Harry run out too. Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Is it goin' to affect your game tomorrow?"

"Probably."

Danny got up on his elbows. "Mikhail, I know we're not best mates or anything, but you might want to talk to someone. I know it's not the manliest thing to do, but I can never figure out my wife, so it's nice to be able to talk to someone about our fights."

Mikhail sat up. "What time is it?"

"I dunno. Almost two?"

Mikhail threw back his covers. "I'll be back in a bit."

Danny lifted his bed-mussed head. "Where ya goin'?"

"Downstairs. To use the inn's main fireplace. I don't want to bother you. I need to make a floo call."

"I think there's a private room for that here," Danny murmured.

"I'll ask the people downstairs. Thanks Danny."

"No problem." And Danny snuggled back down into his pillow.

Mikhail pulled on his dressing gown and padded barefoot out of their room, dropping the key in his pocket. The hallway was much colder than their fire-heated room, and the Captain felt his nipples harden and goose pimples rise all over his skin. He wrapped his dressing gown tightly around him and went downstairs. Wandering into the check-in area, he spotted the concierge, a pretty blonde girl with pig-tail braids.

"Hello," he said.

"Good evening. May I help you?" Her English was stilted, but her smile was sweet. _Too bad I'm gay,_ Mikhail thought.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm wondering if you have a secure floo I could use to make a private call? I don't want to wake my roommate." He returned her smile for good measure.

She blushed and pointed to a door on the opposite wall, under the stairs. "Just there, sir. There's floo powder on the mantle, free of charge. The door locks from the inside."

"Right. Thanks." He turned and went into the room, locking the door behind him. Taking a pinch of floo powder from the mantle, he threw it on the fire blazing in the hearth. It flashed green and he dropped to his knees, thrusting his head into the fire.

"Maddox Paddock!"

Rooms flashed in front of his eyes, and then suddenly there was just black emptiness. He felt a whoosh and the nausea of only his head flying over the water when suddenly rooms began flashing past again, and he was back over British land. Finally, he stopped spinning through the floos and his gaze fixed on the living room of his best mate, Jason Maddox.

It was dark and quiet, the green light of the floo flickering a little eerily over two plush armchairs and beyond into the family room.

"Jason!" Mikhail whispered fiercely. "Jason! Are you there?"

_Ugh…I don't want to yell, or come all the way through…that would be rude._

_Yeah, but so is trying to wake up your friend for a midnight house call,_ the logical part of Mikhail's brain reminded him.

A candle flickered on in the hallway to Mikhail's right. A silhouette appeared in the entryway, and said, "'ello? Who's there?"

"Maggie!" Mikhail said. "I'm really sorry to wake you. Is Jason up? I really need to talk with him."

"Mik?" Maggie, Jason's wife said, padding into the room to get a better view of Mikhail from behind the lounge chairs. "Oh, yes, I c'n go get Jason. It must be urgen', if you're callin' at this time of night. I thought y' were in Germany?"

Mikhail nodded. "Yes. It's nearly two, here. I really hope I didn't wake you."

Maggie shook her dark curls. "No, I was up. Just gettin' a midnight snack," she replied, rubbing her slightly swollen belly.

"Jason mentioned you were pregnant again. Which one is this? Your fourth?"

Maggie nodded, smiling. "Yeh. I think we're done after this one, though. The others are jus' getting past their terrible two's stage, an' I'm not sure how much longer I'll b' able t' keep up with all of them, 'specially after th' new baby's here."

"I still can't believe you had triplets."

Maggie shrugged. "I still can't believe it either. Bu' I' been guaranteed tha' this one's jus' one. An' a boy." She smiled. "Bu' let me go ge' Jason. I'm assuming you can't come all the way through?"

"Yeah. I don't know the address to get back and my wand's up in my room. Besides, this is a long-distance call. I can't just go back and forth between countries without getting on the international law enforcement's bad side."

"Alrigh'. He'll b' right out."

A few minutes passed, and Mikhail resisted the urge to sneeze at the ash flying around his nose. Finally, Jason shuffled in, blond and some-what broad, his brown eyes hazy with sleep.

"Mik…mate, wha's up?"

"It's…well, now I feel silly bothering you like this."

"No, no. We're best mates. Tell me, wha's wrong?" Jason yawned.

"It's Harry. I think he's cheating on me. Or, at least, he wants to."

"Whoa, Mik, hol' up…wha' makes y' think tha'?" Jason sat down in one of the chairs.

"I've suspected it nearly the whole time. He's too close to Draco Malfoy; who, I recently found out, only became Harry's friend a little over a month ago. Three weeks ago, Harry and I started dating; just after he figured out he liked men."

"So y' think Draco Malfoy helped Harry realise this? In a personal way?"

Mikhail nodded. "Yes. But Harry says he's never been with anybody but me. I want to believe him, but I just _know_ Malfoy's involved somehow. They both even admitted finding each other attractive!" Mikhail exclaimed, starting to lose his grip.

Jason's eyebrows rose. "Did they? In front of y'?"

Mikhail tilted his head, a look of reluctance on his face. "My father asked, because of what Skeeter wrote. They both denied any relationship. And Malfoy actually has a girlfriend."

"Okay…" Jason hedged, sorting things out in his head. "I'm assumin' Malfoy's bi or somethin'?"

"Yeah,"

Jason nodded. "Well, Mik, here's mah advice: Believe in Harry. I obviously don' know 'im, bu' my bet is tha' you're seein' things between them tha' aren't there. Even if they are attracted t' each other, they're both in relationships, and attraction doesn't necessarily equal somethin' more. They probably don' wan' t' mess up their friendship anyway, I would think. I mean, if there was a relationship, whether Harry lied t' y' or not, 'e's with you, isn't 'e? And Malfoy an' 'im are still frien's, righ', so nothin' bad happened…if there 'ad been a relationship in that short 'mount of time."

Mik frowned. "I want to believe that, but…"

"Yeh?"

"Malfoy's constantly alluding to the fact that he'll always be around, that I won't ever get rid of him. And tonight, Harry kissed me. And not just a little kiss, either. It caught me totally off-guard, and it was in front of a whole bunch of people. Then he dragged me outside and continued to snog me and…well, you know, other stuff. But it was so uncharacteristic of him. He's never been so forward, other than once, when we were alone."

"Okay."

"Then I spoke to him in Russian and took off my mask. He looked at me like…like I don't know, like he was caught doing something he shouldn't have been. I think he thought he was kissing someone else. Probably Malfoy," he muttered bitterly.

Jason was quiet for a moment. "Did y' ask 'im, or jus' assume? Y've already mentioned Harry's problems t' me in your las' owl…maybe 'e jus' snapped out of it for a few moments. Y' said you were wearin' a mask, righ'?"

"Yeah. We were at a masquerade ball."

"Maybe it was easier fer 'im t' be more forward while y' two were wearin' masks. He could 'ide behind it an' no one knew who he was, so 'e didn' have t' keep up appearances. He prolly needs tha', y' know?"

Mikhail did know. He sighed. "When did you become so wise, Jase?"

Jason smirked. "Back when y' turned poofter on me."

"Ha ha." Mikhail shrugged and blew out some air, sending ash into the air. "Thanks, Jase. I think things make more sense now. I'm going to talk to Harry tomorrow, after the game, and clear things up."

"Great. Now I c'n go back t bed. I 'ave t' deal wi' th' MCV tomorrow."

"Are the horses okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. They'll b' fine. Maurine is jus' a bit sick, an' is actin' a little more wild than usual. Th' MCV is comin' by t' give 'er a sedative an' some medicine t' help 'er out. She should b' fine in a few days."

"Alright. Well, thanks again, Jason. You're the best mate a gay guy could have."

"No problem. Any time. I'll see y' jus' after Christmas, righ'?"

"Yep. I look forward to it. Good night."

"G'night." Jason yawned, standing up and shuffling back out of the room. Mikhail pulled his head out the floo, feeling much better than he had before but now realising just how exhausted he was from a whole evening to worry and stress.

He left the room, giving a friendly smile to the girl up front and padded back upstairs, unlocking his door and closing it softly behind him. Adjusting to the much darker room, Mikhail found his way back to his bed, and, with his dressing gown still wrapped around him, fell asleep.

* * *

"Harry, I'm going down to breakfast; are you coming?" 

Harry was laying, spread eagle on his back, fully dressed on his made bed and staring up at the ceiling. "I'll go down later."

"And if Mikhail or Draco asks for you?"

"Tell them… Tell them I'll see them after the game."

Ron nodded and left the room silently.

Harry continued to lay there, his mind perpetually blank and his gaze no better. He was tired and mentally exhausted. He didn't want to think about anything, feel anything or do anything, and he was doing a fairly good job of accomplishing all three.

He fucked up. Royally. And he still had no idea how to approach Mikhail. He obviously suspected something.

_But what about Mikhail saying he loved you?_

Yeah, about that…

_Was it true? Did he really feel that way?_

And what was Harry supposed to do about it?

Fuck, were he and Mikhail even together anymore?

Too many questions. No answers.

Eventually, after an indeterminate amount of time, Harry sat up, slipped on his trainers, and went downstairs, hoping the rest of the players had already Apparated to the pitch, and that he could still get a late breakfast. He was eternally grateful he wasn't playing today, and he hoped he missed everyone. The last thing he needed right then was to see anyone, especially Mikhail or Draco.

* * *

"I don't like this," Draco said, adjusting his robes, waiting with the rest of the team until they were called out to the pitch. 

"What, are you getting nervous before your big game?" Weasley asked.

"_No,_ Weasel, I'm not nervous. I don't like that Harry's playing the vanishing act. That he's not here."

"He's here, Malfoy. He just didn't want to be around people this morning."

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck happened?"

"Harry will tell you when he's ready."

"Malfoy! Weasley! Keep your conversations for later. We're being announced," Chaikovsky barked.

"Bloody bastard," Draco muttered. "I can only imagine what he has to do with Harry's disappearance."

"Just drop it, Malfoy," Weasley murmured from the corner of his mouth. "Let them duke it out."

"Let's go!" yelled Chaikovsky.

The doors opened and the boys mounted their brooms, hovering for a second before zooming out onto the pitch.

Draco's stomach lurched as he sped out onto the pitch, the massive crowd around him cheering and booing with equal fervour. It _wasn't_ nervousness, he insisted to himself. He zoomed around in a circle, smiling cheekily as he passed the sea of red and black, but missing Harry's face in the crowd.

_Please let him be here._

They took their positions as they finished their lap, Draco floating high above his team mates stationed below him. A minute later, the Berlin Hippogriffs were announced, and sparkling gold and bright purple flashed out of the home locker room, doing a speeding lap around the pitch to their own cheers and boos, and like the Sirens, ended their lap in starting positions. Christian settled in across from Draco and blatantly appraised him now that he was without a mask, his blue eyes intense on Draco's grey ones.

"I like what I see, Malfoy."

"You would, Albrecht. Hopefully you'll like seeing me win, too."

"So cheeky. This is your first game, Draco. Don't let the excitement get to your pretty little head."

Draco would have retorted, but the referee blew the whistle, calling the release of the Snitch and the Bludgers before mounting his broom and tossing up the Quaffle. The commotion below them was immediate, and Draco dodged out of the way when a Bludger was instantly batted his way.

Christian laughed. "I hope you know what you got yourself into, Draco!" And he sped off to one side of the pitch, looking for the Snitch.

Draco gritted his teeth. He would not be bested by some stupid, blond, German philanderer with no sense of proper seduction skills.

Draco tuned out the roar around him; it became a distant wave of sound; crashing, stopping, rising and falling with every move of the twelve players around him. He ignored his driving need to find Harry, to at least see if he was watching, and he ignored his need to pummel the taunting Christian to the earth. He travelled leisurely on the edges of the pitch, his eyes scanning and jumping like bullets, looking for a gold flash that _wasn't_ some blasted Hippogriff's uniform. _Shouldn't those uniforms be banned? You'd think it'd make it hard on their own team. Fuck._

Little sparkles from the crowd and players were causing Draco to slowly lose his mind as he tried to find the Golden Snitch. He heard the crowd roar, and looked over to see one of his own Beaters fall to the ground with an injury. _Dammit._ The game stopped momentarily as they removed Scanton from the pitch.

He renewed his search for the Snitch, ignoring the twisting realisation that he _had_ to get it, he _had_ to win this game, or things on the home front were only going to get more edgy.

_I'm not doing this to prove anything to Chaikovsky. I'm doing this to prove Harry right._

_I have to find that Snitch._

Purple and gold banners flashed and sung, and the home crowd roared with glee as they scored another point. Draco darted slightly down as he saw Christian dive suddenly, but quickly saw that he was pulling a Wronski Feint, and resumed his normal elevation, circling the pitch again.

Again, the Hippogriffs cheered, and Draco glanced at the scoreboard.

Hippogriffs: 250, Sirens: 100.

_Fuck!_ Where was that fucking Snitch? If he found it now, they'd tie…

Much sooner than Draco expected, the Snitch appeared in front of his eyes, and after his split second of shock, he snatched for it, missing it by a hair. It zoomed off, and he was after it, dipping low as he felt a player come barrelling toward him, and swerving sharply and doing a barrel roll to avoid being hit as more players zoomed by. Christian was hot on his tail, he could feel it, but then the Snitch sharply changed directions, and when he tried to follow it, he wound up smashing into Christian, who was trying to dart ahead, and they both lost sight of it.

"_Verdammt_!" Christian swore, rubbing his chest, where Draco's broom handle jabbed him. "You hit me!"

"Fuck you, Albrecht! If you don't expect to get hurt, what the fuck are you doing up here?"

Christian snarled and flew away, muttering what was sure to be obscenities in German.

Draco rolled his eyes. That Christian guy was bloody mental. And a pansy. Yes. A philandering pansy, who was trying to steal his good looks.

_Just being blond and blue-eyed won't get you everything, Christian. You've got to know how to _use_ it._

Draco rose up again, doing a circle of the pitch as he went, staying as far away from the other Seeker as possible, without getting too far away so he could catch up if Christian spotted the Snitch before Draco.

The score was now Hippogriffs: 260, Sirens: 120.

What the hell were their Chasers doing down there?

But Draco couldn't ponder on it much, because Christian was going after the Snitch again, but it was still closer to Draco. Draco dived, lying against his broom so closely that he was sure it would become a part of him, his arm outstretched and ready to snatch the glory. The crowd was cheering loudly around him, but he couldn't stop to look and see what team had just scored another goal.

As his fingers closed over the Snitch, he was slammed into hard from his right, and went reeling in the opposite direction, thirty metres from the ground. He managed to right himself with a whirling barrel roll, while Christian was tumbling handle over tail trying to right himself.

Draco breathed hard, holding the struggling Snitch close to his chest, and just thanking the gods that he didn't plummet to the ground and was still on his broom, all with only one hand. The game stopped, and the whole crowd cheered. Draco looked to the scoreboard.

Hippogriffs: 280, Sirens: 270.

_We lost._

Yes, but you caught the Snitch.

_I did, didn't I?_

_Fuck, yeah. I did. I was the better Seeker._ Draco smirked.

_Harry…where's Harry?_

As Draco landed, he looked around for his bespectacled friend. He was swarmed by his team mates, who were all congratulating him and slapping him on the back, their eyes lighting up as they saw the Snitch in Draco's palm. Even Chaikovsky was looking at him with some sort of appraisal in his eyes, even if he didn't come close or say a word. Draco was surprised that they hadn't tied, and asked Danny what happened.

"They managed another goal just after you caught the Snitch, I'm sure," he scoffed. "We should have tied, shouldn't we have, Captain?"

Mikhail nodded. "I'm going to go have a _word_ with the ref." And the tall man left.

Siren and Hippogriff supporters flooded the pitch, and Draco was wheeled around as everyone congratulated him on a spectacular catch, and reassured him that it was okay they lost, because they didn't lose by much. Raven came and attached her lips to his, giving him his after-game kiss like she promised before the game. Even Granger showed up and gave him a warm smile and a pat on the arm.

_But where was Harry?

* * *

_

Raven opened the door to her room, satisfied at another day's work of taking pictures. The surrounding nature was extremely interesting through a camera lens, especially after many storms and unrelenting rain.

"Hey, Daphne, how was your—whoa…what's that there?" Raven set down her camera and her bag on her bed. She watched as her roommate sat there, looking dumbly at a letter, with a large bouquet of yellow and red roses lying on the bed beside her.

Raven sat down beside her and picked up the bouquet, inhaling the scent of the roses, musky and sweet.

"Don't!" Daphne snapped. "They might be toxic."

Raven scoffed. "They're fine." She sniffed again. "See?" Setting the roses down, she asked, "Why are you so paranoid?"

"Because they're from a crazy person. Here," and she handed over the letter she had been gaping at.

Raven took it and scanned the lines. It read:

_Daphne _

_I will not bore you with alliterations and soppy declarations of my love. I know your fiery disposition would only see those as ostentatious, sleazy, and unworthy of your vitally brilliant attentions. However, I will intrigue you with my hidden identity and with the symbolism of my roses. With each yellow rose, I hope to only grow closer to winning a position in your life, and with each red rose, I hope to show you my love. I do wish with my anonymity that I pique your feline curiosity and that you'll seek me out, as I do you._

It was unsigned.

"Do you recognise the handwriting?" Daphne asked.

Raven frowned. "No. But let me try a revealing charm." She muttered _aperio_, waving her wand over the paper. Slowly, it revealed a semi-sloppy script; much different than the elegant scrawl it had been.

"Do you recognise that?" Raven said.

Daphne looked over her shoulder. "No, I don't. Do you?"

"No," Raven lied. "But whoever it is, he seems rather romantic. I'm sure he's just a harmless admirer."

"Then why go to the lengths to hide?"

Raven shrugged. "Like he said, he wants to pique your curiosity. He wants you to seek him out."

Daphne wrinkled her nose. "I don't like it."

Standing, Raven handed the letter back. "Daph, you are _far_ too cynical to be healthy. Take a chance for once, okay?"

Daphne shot a distrustful look at the two dozen roses next to her. "Maybe."

Raven rolled her eyes. "I'll be back just before dinner. I'm going to go bother Blaise. He was the only one who opted to miss Draco's first game this morning. I don't know why."

"Oh, how did it go?"

Raven grinned. "Draco did well. We lost, but he caught the Snitch, so we only lost by ten points."

"Brilliant. I hope he gets to play more often now."

"Me too." Raven smiled and left the room.

* * *

Blaise was not expecting the stinging handprint that was now burned onto his left cheek. He looked at Raven with wide, horrified eyes, his mouth parted in surprise. 

"What…_what the fuck was that for_?" he exclaimed.

Raven narrowed her green eyes up at him, while he stood there, in the open doorway. "I _know_ it was you, Blaise Zabini. And Daphne _better not_ turn into another one of your _flings_."

Blaise recovered enough to grab Raven by the arm and haul her inside the dormitory. "She's _not_, okay? Do you think I'd go through all this trouble if I didn't actually like her? If she didn't mean anything, I would have had her and dropped her years ago."

Raven searched Blaise's eyes and saw truth there. "Alright," she replied, stepping back and eying him cautiously. "You're being rather odd, you know that? Why the sudden interest in Daphne?"

Blaise shrugged. "I like her. I have for a while now. I didn't want to just go up to her and hit on her. She knows my relationship history; or lack thereof; I knew she wouldn't understand that I was honestly interested in her."

"Yeah, well, she seems to think you're a crazy stalker. You might want to re-think your strategy. Though I think I managed to convince her that your letter told the truth; that you only want her to seek you out too."

"Indeed. So—how'd you know it was me?"

"Revealing charm. I'd recognise your handwriting anywhere. Luckily, Daphne didn't. Don't worry—I didn't tell her. Your secret's safe with me. But you might want cover your tracks a little better."

Blaise smiled. "Good. So…how was Draco's game? I wanted to come, but I had already planned on setting up the roses for Daphne."

"It went really well. Draco caught the Snitch, but the ref called in two goals for Berlin practically after he caught it. So, we lost. But only by ten points."

"Brilliant. When are they all coming home?"

"Later tonight. There's some sort of after party this evening or something, Draco said. He asked me to go, but I wanted to get in some good pictures today, while it wasn't raining."

"Get any good ones?"

Raven nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Do you think Daphne will go for me?" Blaise asked, his eyebrows rising hopefully.

Raven laughed. "You certainly have her intrigued, at any rate."

"In a good way?"

A smirk graced Raven's lips. "We'll see."

* * *

Gathering all of the courage he could muster, Harry knocked quietly on the door in front of him. He waited a minute, wondering if the person inside had heard, before a creak in the floorboards behind him startled him and he whirled around. 

"Mikhail! I was just coming to, er, see you." Harry looked away, biting his lip. "I need to talk to you."

Mikhail nodded curtly. "Alright. Let's go inside." Harry moved hastily out of the way when Mikhail moved forward to unlock the door. Danny was inside, packing up.

"Hey, Danny, could we have a few minutes?" Mikhail asked.

"Yeah, sure." Danny sent them both a smile of understanding grimness, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Mikhail set the door key on the table between the beds, keeping his back facing Harry. "I'm listening."

Harry stepped forward haltingly. "Mikhail, I've been up all night, thinking about what happened, and I figured that I should stop assuming how you're feeling and what you want to hear from me, and just ask before I say anything."

"Harry," Mikhail started, turning around, "I don't _want_ to hear anything from you. I _need_ to hear what the fuck happened last night. Do you have _any_ idea how much you hurt me? You were looking at me like you didn't know who I was!" Mikhail turned around and tried to regain his composure by taking a few deep breaths. "I talked with Jason early this morning. My best friend, you know? He said that maybe you needed the masks on to kiss me like you did; to be so forward. But the way you looked at me…it was like I caught you cheating on me or something."

"Mikhail…" Harry swallowed. "The last thing I meant to do was hurt you. I think…that Jason is right; it was easier, because I wasn't afraid that someone would see us and know who we were. I hate it, Mikhail, but that's how it is. I'm known all over the world and the last thing I'll _ever_ want is people knowing what's going on in my personal life. You've read the newspapers; they think it's their _right_ to know about it. I know it's not an excuse for my behaviour, but it's the only thing that makes any sense to me right now."

"Do you really even like me, Harry? Because I swear it feels like I'm putting more into this relationship than you are. I don't like feeling like that; I want to believe we can work past this…problem, or whatever it is, but I'm starting to think that maybe we won't."

"No, you're right, Mikhail. It's me. I'm not putting as much into this, and I'm sorry. I can't even say I don't know how…because I'm not sure that that's the reason why." Harry sighed and turned away, stepping close to the wall and bracing an arm on it, and then his head on his arm. "This isn't working, is it? I'm just not meant to have normal things like a relationship." He let his arm drop, and his forehead hit the wall.

Mikhail stepped forward. "I don't believe that, Harry. You're extraordinary, and maybe because of that, you deserve all the normal things life can give you. I only want to make you happy, Harry. And last night made me think that you might prefer someone else in that role."

"Mikhail, that's not true."

"Then what is it, Harry? Why can't I make you happy?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do know, and you're afraid to tell me the truth."

Harry finally turned around, tired of being accused for only protecting Mikhail's feelings and trying to put his mistake with Draco behind him. "Well, what am I supposed to feel or do when you say things like you love me? It's been _three_ weeks, Mikhail. I really like you, but when you say things like that…well, it sort of freaked me out. Do you? Do you love me?"

"I thought I did, Harry."

"As in, you don't anymore?"

"Something tells me you're relieved."

"Mikhail! Why do you keep acting like I _want_ this to end? Have I ever said anything to allude to that notion?"

"It's not what you say, Harry. It's what you do and how you act. I want to help you, to make you happy, but you don't seem to want my help. I want to love you, but I can't figure out how I'm supposed to do that when you keep shutting me out."

Harry moved and grabbed onto Mikhail's arms. "I don't mean to, Mikhail. But there's so much about me; so much history that I don't want to live through again. I already had to when Draco and I started working through it all to become friends. But it's over. I want to move on, Mikhail. And you _are_ helping. This is just new to me, okay? And I'm scared."

"Scared of what, Harry?"

"I don't know…looking stupid? Messing up? I've already done that."

"Harry, you can only mess up by not trying. And nothing you can do will make you look stupid to me. I'm here for you, dammit. I've been trying to tell you that; trying to make this as painless and un-awkward as possible. I've only been worried that I've been rushing you."

"You haven't, really, Mikhail. It's just me. I'm stupid."

Mikhail pulled Harry close, tangling a hand in his boyfriend's hair. "You're not stupid, Harry. Why do you always put yourself down?" He pulled back, gently moving Harry's hair back from his forehead. He rubbed his thumb over the still red scar. "You let this scar define you, Harry. But it's not you. You're better than it; you're beyond its reaches now. You can't let anyone tell you otherwise." Mikhail kissed the scar and said, "It's up to you to live your life the way you want to. Which means that as much as I will try to help, getting past whatever's keeping you from getting close to me, or anyone else, has to come from you. But I'll be here, if you need me."

"Thank you, Mikhail. But you're still too wise for me." Harry hugged Mikhail, feeling secure, but still unsure about where he wanted their relationship to go. Pulling back, he said, "Well, I should get going. Ron's waiting for me to finish packing so he can have some alone-time with Hermione."

"Alright. I'll see you at the after-party?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really feeling up for it, but you go. Besides, I need to go congratulate Draco on his spectacular catch today."

"I wasn't sure if you were watching."

"I was. Congratulations on your near-win," he said, smiling.

"Thank you."

"Have you talked to Draco yet?"

Mikhail looked away in slight embarrassment. "No. I'm not sure what to say. I'm afraid he'll say something like 'I told you so.'" He chuckled. "We still didn't win, but he _did_ do fairly well."

"I told you so," Harry mocked.

Mikhail narrowed his eyes. "I suppose I deserve that from you. But not from Malfoy."

"Do you still hate him, Mikhail?"

"I just don't trust him, Harry. He's said some strange things; like that he's not leaving or getting out of your life. It makes me think that he's trying to steal you from me. It doesn't help that he admitted to finding you attractive. It just makes me nervous."

Harry sighed and looked to the floor. "You know, I'm not going to discuss this with you. Draco can't _steal_ me from you unless I _want _to go, which I don't. And I think you've forgotten that I've found him attractive too. Just please leave Draco alone." Harry kissed Mikhail on the cheek and stepped back. "He'll ignore you if you ignore him. Well, he wouldn't have at Hogwarts, but he's less likely to instigate something now. He's grown up; changed. Just give him a pat on the back for the game this morning and leave it at that. Okay?"

Mikhail frowned but nodded. "Alright. I promise."

"I'll see you back in England, Mik."

"Bye, Harry." He waved as Harry walked out the door.

Still frowning, Mikhail felt as though he had just made up with his boyfriend, but was chastised at the same time. He couldn't trust Malfoy. He _knew_ he couldn't, but he couldn't necessarily deny Harry's friendship with the git. He could only keep an eye on him, he supposed. But, at least things with Harry were better than they had been. He felt terrible for freaking out on Harry like that the previous night, but something really wasn't right, there. And Harry never did give him a straight answer…except to say that Jason had been correct in his assumptions.

Mikhail tried to shove those niggling mistrustful thoughts of Harry away, but something continued to squirm in his gut, and though he was terrified of ignoring the thoughts, he was even more afraid of indulging them. He could lose Harry. For no reason other than his own paranoia.

_Please, Merlin, let me be wrong.

* * *

_

"Hey, Stuart! Is Draco still here? Has he gone to the party?"

Stuart Strader, a blond, blue-eyed, bespectacled Chaser for the Sirens, turned around from unlocking the door to his room at the inn. "Oh, hi, Harry. No, I think he went home. He said something about his girlfriend's absence putting a dent in his fun for the night. He packed up and left."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Harry turned back around and went to his own room, where he caught Ron and Hermione in a lip-lock he was hoping he would get used to seeing one of these years. "Oh, Jesus! Guys, couldn't you wait until I went home?"

Ron blushed and Hermione cleared her throat. "Sorry, Harry. Did you patch things up with Mikhail?"

"Yeah, mostly. He still suspects Draco…and I tried to put him off the trail, telling him that if he stops antagonising Draco, Draco will stop antagonising him. I don't think it worked. He's going to figure it out sooner or later, Hermione, and I don't know what to do about it. This is so fucked up." Harry sat on his bed and put his head in his hands, his already packed bag sitting next to him. Another little lie.

"Harry, don't let that get you down. I don't think Draco will say anything; he doesn't want the publicity just as much as you don't want it. Just tell Draco to back off, too. I have a feeling that Malfoy just likes bothering Mikhail because he can, not for any real gain."

"Yeah. I suppose." He stood, grabbing his bag. "Well, I'm going home. Draco apparently already Apparated home, so I'll catch up with you guys later."

"Alright, Harry. Cheer up! Today's a beautiful day back in England. Enjoy it before it starts raining or snowing again."

Harry smiled. "Okay, Hermione. You two have fun tonight at the party. Give my regards to Christian, will you, Ron?"

"Will do. Later, Harry."

"Later."

After getting through Wizarding Customs on both ends, and finally getting back to his dorm room in Rookwood, the sun was already setting. Setting his meagre bag down, Harry walked straight back out the door and over to Number Three, where he was hoping to find Draco.

No one answered the door, but it was unlocked, so Harry entered and went upstairs to Draco's room. He heard two male voices, and when he got close enough, realised the other was Blaise. He knocked on the door.

"Come in."

The door creaked as Harry opened it. "Hi, Draco. Hey Zabini."

"Harry! Hey, I've been wondering where you've been. I didn't see you at the game…" Draco was pulling his uniform out of his expensive-looking valise, while Blaise stood nearby, watching.

"Er, yeah. I was there, don't worry. I came over to congratulate you. You left Berlin before I could say anything."

Draco smiled brilliantly; another one of those smiles that made interesting feelings jump around in Harry's stomach, yet made him feel horrible for having the feelings.

Blaise glanced between them and announced his leave. "I'll just leave you two some time to catch up."

"So you saw it?" Draco asked as soon as Blaise closed the door behind him.

"Yeah, Draco, it was brilliant. You did so well. I actually told Mikhail 'I told you so.'"

Draco laughed. "I'm sure he loved hearing that."

"Well, he's definitely not looking forward to talking to you. I think he's afraid you're going to mock him and throw it in his face."

"Yes, I probably will." Draco smirked and turned, going back to taking his clothing out of his case, before walking over to his hamper and dropping his dirty robes inside.

"It's really too bad you didn't win, though. But you did very well. I saw that Albrecht was taunting you."

"Yeah, the smarmy bastard. And a good-look-stealing philanderer at that."

"Sorry?"

Draco hung his dress robes from the ball in his wardrobe. "After Meghan left him at the ball, he ran into me, and hit on me. He even kissed me, after I had told him I wasn't gay. I even had to tell him I had a girlfriend who likes to give me pain just to get him to back off."

"Really? I've never known him to be like that, but I never really saw him that often off the pitch."

"Just don't let him near you. I don't think he'd care that you're dating the captain." Draco turned around from putting a preservation charm on his dress robes. "By the way, Strader mentioned something about you and Chaikovsky running out of the ball?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It was a misunderstanding. Don't worry about it, we've talked it out. But I have to ask if you could not antagonise Mikhail anymore. And I told him to leave you alone too, so don't look at me like that. I just figure if you two don't talk to each other unless you have to, you guys can stop causing each other grief. Besides, he more than thinks something's up with you, Draco. He believes you're trying to steal me from him."

Draco reached for the hem of his tee-shirt, pulling it up and off, throwing it in his hamper. Smirking, he stalked back over to Harry, saying, "Who says I'm not?"

"Draco, stop it. Put your shirt back on."

Draco snorted softly under his breath and stepped away. "I'm getting ready to take a shower. If you don't like me undressing in front of you, perhaps you should leave."

"I meant, stop teasing me. It's not helping matters. Just leave Mikhail alone, and don't rise to his bait, okay? I'm pretty sure you don't want him knowing what happened between us, do you?"

"I think you know the answer to that question, Harry."

"Then just stop."

"I'm not just going to ignore him when he throws insults my way and makes rude and untrue insinuations, Harry."

"Well, if you don't react, and he doesn't do anything to you either, then there shouldn't be a problem."

Draco shook his head and undid his belt. Harry quickly looked away. "You're being awfully optimistic, you know that?"

Harry's eyes snapped to Draco's face. "Well, do you want me to take more drastic measures? I mean, for Merlinsakes, Draco, why do you like bothering him so much? Can't you just be my friend and accept that I'm dating him? That what we did was obviously a mistake, as it nearly cost us our friendship?"

Draco stared gravely at Harry, now standing in only his boxers. "You think it was a mistake." It wasn't a question.

Harry didn't know how to respond. Part of him felt that yes, it was a mistake. Look at all the heartache and lies it created. But Harry couldn't forget how Draco had made him feel that night, and seeing Draco wearing nearly nothing wasn't helping his imagination any.

"I don't know," he finally responded.

"Well, perhaps you should get a better idea before saying things like that. Someone less understanding than me might think you don't give a shit about their feelings on the matter."

"Draco, I didn't mean to hurt you…"

"Don't, Harry. Just…nevermind. Look, unless you want to see me without my skivvies on, then you might want to leave. I really need to take a shower. I hate travelling. I wind up smelling like a mixture of an old sweaty man with no sense of proper hygiene and some old lady's perfume."

"This day sucks," Harry muttered to himself, but Draco still heard him.

"Even my spectacular catch this morning? I thought it was rather brilliant myself. Something to go in the Quidditch history books." Draco was obviously being ostentatious.

Harry laughed softly. "Draco, you are so full of yourself."

"But that's why people love me, why should I change?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, Draco, you were bloody brilliant today," he deadpanned. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Draco sniffed. "Don't mock me, Potter. Just because _you_ are not so brilliant, doesn't mean you get to step on others' greatness."

Harry and Draco locked eyes, and then burst out laughing.

"You go have your victory shower, Draco. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Harry. Thanks for the compliment."

"No problem."

"Hey Harry?" Draco called out just as Harry was closing the door.

"Yeah?" the brunet asked, pushing the door open again.

"I'll try. To leave Chaikovsky alone. For you."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Draco."

Draco nodded, and Harry was gone.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the lounge, reading over the potions charts that he and Draco were almost finished with when Ron and Hermione came home. Ron was smiling goofily and leaning on Hermione, who was obviously not happy to be helping her some-what drunken fiancé arrive home safely. 

"Hey, you two! How was the party?"

Hermione shrugged. "Alright. But I'm exhausted. I'm going to go over to my room. I'll let you deal with the red haired wonder here. I got him through customs, and managed to side-along Apparate him home. I'll let you take care of the rest."

Harry stood and went over to stop Ron from tumbling over as soon as Hermione let go of him. "Okay, Hermione. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight 'Mione!" Ron yelled, startling them both.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Harry replied. Once Hermione was gone, Harry led Ron over to the couch and sat him down. "Okay… Ron? Where are your things? Your bag and your broom?"

"Um…I don't know. I think 'Mione said something about a pocket…" Ron started shoving his hands clumsily into his robe pockets, coming up with little bits of lint. "Oh…they're not here. I must have left them in Berlin!" Ron tried to get up, but Harry pushed him back down.

"Don't worry about it, Ron. I'm sure Hermione has them. Just sit here, okay? Don't move. I'm going to go get you some sobering potion, alright?"

As Harry cautiously left the room, Ron turned and yelled, "The party was really great, Harry! You should have been there!"

"Ron, keep it down! It's late!" Harry whispered.

Ron practically giggled and put a finger to his mouth. "Shh! It's late!"

Harry rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen, where he had several different types of potions stored for various situations. _Ron, you are _not_ allowed to drink alcohol at your wedding. The last thing we need is you acting like this in front of all your friends and family._

When Harry returned, he found Ron, sitting upside down on the couch, his head dangling from the cushion, and his feet sticking up in the air.

"Oh, Jesus… Ron! Sit up!" Harry helped the very uncooperative Ron right himself, and then forced the potion down his throat. Ron shuddered, his face turning green for a second. He coughed for a few moments before blinking rapidly.

"Oh—Merlin—that shit is _awful_!"

Harry laughed. "It's what you get. If the potion doesn't work, the taste sure will. What on earth did you drink? And why did Hermione let you?"

Ron rubbed his forehead. "I don't know…I remember something green…and maybe just some butterbeer… Fuck, I feel like I've been hit over the head with a truck."

"It'll wear off in a few minutes."

"I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

"Other than gibber foolishly and sitting on the couch upside down? No, then as far as I'm aware, you didn't do anything stupid."

"Hmm. So, what did you do for the rest of the day?"

"Not a whole lot. I just came home, talked with Draco, and then I've been here, all night, reviewing my potions notes."

Ron didn't say anything for a few moments. "Harry, I need to tell you something."

"Is this a good kind of something or a bad kind of something?"

"It…depends. I'm not sure how you'll react."

"What? What is it? Are you and Hermione breaking up or something?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It's…about Draco."

"What about him? Ron, just tell me."

"He saw you and Mikhail, a week ago when Mikhail stayed the night. He was spying on you."

"Wh-what? Are you sure? How do you know?"

"He told me. He said he came over to see if you wanted to hang out. Instead of coming through the front door, he levitated up to your room, and he saw you and Mikhail making out, and then he said he saw you two fight."

Harry was shocked. "He did see us," he said slowly. "That's what happened that night."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to hurt you, or complicate things. I just thought you should know the truth."

Harry nodded. "No, he's done it before. Levitated up to my room, I mean. He just… Why wouldn't he tell me what he saw?"

"He said he didn't mean to. He seemed sort of upset that I accused him of spying, but I'm not sure if he's telling the truth or not. As much as I still don't like him, I don't think he meant to see anything."

"Maybe, but that still doesn't explain why he didn't tell me."

"Maybe he didn't want you to accuse him of spying. Like I did."

"Maybe."

Harry sat there, hoping Ron was right—that Draco didn't really mean to spy. How could he have known that Mikhail was over for dinner anyway? Harry didn't remember telling him. He must have just been coming over to see Harry, right?

But what if he was spying? What purpose would it have served?

Harry was too confused to figure Draco out. His constant teasing, his antagonism, his continuous reiteration of his feelings for Harry when he was obviously dating Raven…Harry was tired of all the doubt that came with being Draco's friend.

Everyone else was so wary of him…except for Harry. What if Harry was wrong?

* * *

**_Put love first. Entertain thoughts that give life. And when a thought or resentment, or hurt, or fear comes your way, have another thought that is more powerful -- a thought that is love._ **

**--Mary Manin Morrissey

* * *

**

**A/N: **_Er...I have nothing to say here...lol. Um...until next time? I hope to hear from you, and I hope you all are well until I show up again! (And don't worry, I WILL come back!) :D_**  
**


	25. Another Letter

_**Chapter Notes: **Ah...er... Hi! I hope you're all not mad at me or anything. I know I took bloody forever to get this newest chapter out. It's not as long as I had thought it was going to be, and the next one, according to my notes, might be a bit shorter than normal as well, but I'm sure you'll enjoy them both. There's a few important little things being set up in this chapter, so I hope you all pay close attention._

_I want to thank my betas for this chapter, IcyAurora, Michelle, and Omi. They were really helpful in finding some little mistakes and working out some awkwardness in this chapter. I can't thank them enough. I also can't thank you readers for being so patient with me. I don't think I got any messages telling me to either write now or off myself. Thanks._

_:D _

_Just to let you all know, this version of the chapter is slightly cleaner than the original. Mainly just word choices in one of the scenes; nothing's really cut out. If you'd like to read the original, you can find it on my site, which is linked from my userpage. Or, just add a (dot) com after my username (still including the dash) and you should come upon my website._

_Anyhow, enough of my babbling! Please enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter XXIV – Another Letter**

* * *

"Draco!" Blaise said with over-enthusiastically as he plopped down next to his friend on the couch. 

"Blaise!" said Draco, with the same over-enthusiasm, his eyes wide with expectation and filled with annoyance at having his homework time rudely interrupted.

"So? Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"About what I gave Daphne."

"Er…yeah. You told me."

Blaise looked crestfallen. "Oh. Well, did you see her today? She looks totally paranoid!"

"Blaise…I don't think paranoia is the type of feeling you'd want to instil in the girl you're trying to woo, here."

Blaise nodded, his eyes narrowed in thought. "You're right."

Draco rolled his eyes, unnoticed. "You must really like her if you're going through all this trouble. And you're being a sneaky Slytherin about it, too."

"You don't think she'll catch on, do you?"

"I think you've scared her too much for that, mate," he replied dryly.

"Raven knows, did she tell you?"

"No, but I don't see her much lately." Draco looked back down to his parchment, hoping Blaise would leave the subject alone. He didn't.

"Really? Why not?"

"She's busy with her art, and I'm busy with my thesis."

"Are you two okay? She has seemed a little distant; minus her slapping me for trying to court Daphne."

Draco raised an eyebrow but murmured, "That's my girl."

"Hey! Your girlfriend provided bodily harm that nearly left a mark! I should sue!"

"Pfft. Please." At Blaise's glare, Draco said, "I'm sure she's sorry."

"You never answered my question, Draco."

"What question?"

"About you and Raven. How you're doing."

"Us? We're fine. Not really going anywhere but it's not like either of us has a great track record for relationships."

"This Harry-thing is distracting you, isn't it?"

Draco scoffed and looked to his research. "Of course not. You are."

"Draco, you're really not that great of a liar. Yes, I know this comes as a great shock."

"Hush up, Zabini. _Yes,_ okay, Harry's been taking a lot of my mental energies. I just – _fuck_ Mikhail Chaikovsky for being such a bloody _perfect_ boyfriend!"

"Draco, you know that their getting together was partially your fault, right?"

"Yes, goddammit! I know. I just..." he sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm still trying." Draco lowered his voice and continued, "We only had one night together – and yes, it was amazing, but how the fuck did I think it would ever work? He's Harry Potter! I'm Draco Malfoy! He needs someone like that soggy Russian; and I have a girlfriend besides. I'm just insane, that's what I am. Insane."

"You're not insane, Draco. You're in love."

"And what would you know about it?"

"Great Merlin Draco, shut-up! You sound like a whiny little girl!"

Draco glared with tremendous intensity and growled low in the back of his throat. "Yeah, well, you're making your love-interest paranoid that some crazy person is stalking her!"

"At least I can admit how I feel!"

"Behind a mask of anonymity!"

"Will you two shut up!" Nott yelled from the kitchen dining area. "It's not like your yelling doesn't affect our homework either!"

Both Draco and Blaise sat back with their arms crossed, huffy.

"Maybe we're both cowards," Blaise suggested after a moment.

Draco glanced his way. "Perhaps." He shifted in his seat. "Besides, I _have_ told Potter how I feel."

"You just haven't told him you love him."

Draco pursed his lips. "Because I don't think he loves me. I'm not ready to take that risk."

"Maybe you have to take that risk, Draco." At Draco's non-committal shrug he added, "At least you know he likes you."

"Yeah. Hm. So – what are you going to do for Daphne next?"

"Oh, um. Another letter. I'm not sure what to give her, though. But I was wondering, what are you doing for the Hols?"

"Raven's going to spend a day or two with her parents, then she's coming over to the Manor to help me sort through things. I was going to ask Harry if he'll come too. His best friends should be on their honeymoon."

"You should have a party," Blaise suggested.

"Why? So you can invite Daphne?"

"Maybe."

"I see right through you, Zabini. But – I'll have a party. Maybe two. One for Christmas, and one for New Years. And I'll invite Daphne; so you don't have to blow your cover. Just do something nice for her for Christmas, all right?"

"Thanks mate. Oh! That reminds me – guess who's coming to visit before Hols?"

Draco paled. "Oh no. Your mum."

"Yep. She won't give up on you, you know. She likes them rich and young."

"How? How on earth does she justify their untimely deaths? Ugh, Blaise – just keep your Black Widow of a mother away from me."

Blaise laughed. "I'll try. But she hasn't had a husband in such a long time…"

"Arabella Zabini is a _witch_, I tell you."

Blaise stared at his friend. "Er…yeah. She is."

Draco waved him off. "You know what I mean."

Blaise murmured his agreement. "Well, she'll only be here for a few days, and she'll be staying in the village. Then she's taking me home with her – to Italy I mean – before I come back here to hopefully party with you."

"How long will you be gone?"

"'Till after Christmas."

"Then why am I throwing two parties?"

"I don't know. Throw one. For New Years. Then I can kiss Daphne when it turns. Shame about missing the mistletoe, though."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, shame I'll only have to see you snogging once."

"Oh, if things go according to plan, all you'll _see_ of me and Daph is us snogging."

"Gross. But that really is some plan you have – not knowing what to give her next; then showering her unexpectedly with kisses. Yes. Good plan."

"Shove off, Malfoy," Blaise snapped affectionately.

"You first. You were the one interrupting my research."

"Yes, yes ,yes. I'll leave you to it, then." Blaise got up and moved towards the stairs.

"Ta, you silly wanker."

"Watch your insults, wannabe shirt-lifter."

Draco looked scandalised, but only for a moment. "Well, no Christmas present for you this year."

"Ooh, really? You were gonna get me a present?"

"Not any more."

Blaise bounded back to the sofa, leaning over it into Draco's personal space. The Italian certainly had no propriety regarding personal boundaries.

"Tell me! _Please._"

"What? I didn't get you anything. It's _October._"

"But _will_ you? Please say you will. _Please_."

"Talk about sounding like a girl…" Draco muttered. Then he sniffed. "I'll think about it. But you've hurt my feelings. I don't _want_ to be a shirt-lifter. I just like Harry. Only Harry."

Blaise pouted. "Oh fine. You're… _Harry-sexual_ then."

"Harry-sexual…hmm. That sounds alright. Okay! Now that that's taken care of – vanish, please. You've distracted me for nearly an hour."

"My apologies. I'll catch you later."

"Much later."

* * *

Mikhail had wanted to walk Harry home, but his boyfriend was taking longer than usual in the locker room (which was still a rather long time), and the sun was nearly set. 

The deep darkness from the forest around the pitch loomed and grew, and he fidgeted with nervousness over nothing in particular.

He thought he loved Harry, that he was starting to love Harry, but things between them were obviously not so great. Not that Mikhail gave up so easily. Mikhail fought every minute with himself about his enmity with Malfoy versus his feelings for Harry. Some part of him was horrified at the thought that he could think so lowly of Harry – think that Harry would cheat on him so quickly, that perhaps there was more to his and Malfoy's relationship than met the eye – but some small facts were staring him in the face. Harry and Malfoy must be hiding something. Mikhail didn't want to think what that something was, however.

Grimacing at the on-setting headache, Mikhail turned and went back inside, where a heavy mist hung in the air after the showers his team had taken. One stall was still running and Mikhail spotted Harry's Quidditch things on one of the benches, a pile of rumpled clothing with Harry's Firebolt leaning against it; his worn leather boots limp on the floor.

Mikhail had maybe always wondered just why his team mate took his showers so late. Even more so after Harry finally felt comfortable enough to come back to the shower room; getting over his shyness around the other men and his boyfriend. Perhaps living in the dorm didn't help promote a healthy wanking lifestyle? Mikhail rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. Harry had his own room, so it couldn't be that. And it's not like Harry was horribly disfigured – _that_, Mikhail could personally attest to – so perhaps he just didn't like being naked in front of other guys? But then wouldn't he have just gone home from the start? Or wait – maybe Harry lied to him about when he first realised he liked guys. _Maybe_ he was so startled when you kissed him because he thought you found out his secret…

And maybe you're just paranoid.

Probably. That last thought was ludicrous.

Setting his things down next to Harry's, Mikhail crept towards the showering area, being careful to avoid large puddles. He didn't want to spy on Harry in the shower, per se; he just wanted to make sure he was okay. He'd been in there for so long…

Mikhail had barely avoided slipping when he realised he'd reached the last stall and looked up to see Harry's naked back; pearly-white scars crisscrossing in short bursts across the shower-pink skin.

The Quidditch Captain swallowed hard. His mouth had gone dry at the sight of his boyfriend's blemished back. He watched silently as the obviously very hot water sluiced down Harry's neck and shoulders, welling in the curve above his buttocks before falling down into the crevasse between them.

Watching his boyfriend just stand there, his arms braced against the back wall, aroused Mikhail as much as seeing the scars laced on Harry's skin horrified him. _How come I didn't notice?_ Did_ I notice? _Mikhail thought back to the morning after he'd stayed at Harry's. He thought he might have seen some scars…but where did they come from? Why wouldn't Harry talk about things like that with him?

He was jolted from his horrified staring by Harry moving his arms down from the wall and turning around. Mikhail started; afraid of being caught; but Harry's eyes remained closed. He watched as Harry pushed his hair out of his face and sighed, leaning back through the spray to the wall. Harry's hands roamed over his chest and stomach, tracing lazy patterns over the wet skin. Mikhail couldn't stop himself from looking lower and noticing Harry's arousal…and the large angry scar reaching from his navel to his hip, brushing past his upper groin.

_How the hell did I miss _thatMikhail thought._ There's no way I could have not seen that when I was down there…_

Mikhail couldn't believe his eyes and ears when Harry took a hold of himself and started stroking languidly, breathing slow panting breaths and moaning Mikhail's name. Sharp desire shot straight to Mikhail's groin and he covered his mouth to stifle a moan in return. He continued to stand there, long after all his other instincts were telling him that he should leave, watching with rapt attention as Harry touched himself. Harry whimpered and panted, a frustrated cry of 'Malfoy' escaping then too-pink lips, and Mikhail forgot to feel hurt as he watched Harry snarl and turn very suddenly to punch the tile wall at his side, hitting his forehead just as hard afterwards. There was blood, and sadly, Mikhail watched Harry crack open red eyes and look at the split skin of his hand, his eyes appearing dead. His tongue darted out to catch a drop of blood before whispering a healing charm.

Luckily for Mikhail, Harry didn't notice him and only turned around to turn off the water. Mikhail took the chance and sprung into action; stepping quickly around the puddles and ducking down into the locker room, sitting where his stuff lay.

"Hello? Is someone there?" he heard Harry's voice call.

"It's just me, Harry," he managed to get out past the cottony feeling in his throat. "Just waiting for you."

Harry emerged from the steam with a towel around his waist, carrying his dirty Quidditch trousers. "Oh," he said with a small smile, "That's sweet of you."

Mikhail smiled slightly back, trying to erase the images and accusations from his mind. "I try, I guess."

Harry leaned down and kissed him slowly on the cheek. "So, any particular reason you stayed behind?"

Mikhail's brow crinkled in thought. "I thought maybe I could walk you home and we could talk."

"About what?" Harry asked, taking his clean clothes out from his bag and shoving the dirty ones inside.

"I can't remember, actually," Mikhail said truthfully. "The sight of you drew all thoughts from my mind." _And put new ones in its place…_

Harry flushed, pulling his shirt over his head. "I didn't realise I was so striking…"

Though Mikhail's thoughts were serious, he couldn't help but smile softly at Harry's own self-depreciation; giving him the opportunity to boost Harry's confidence. "You are."

Harry's blush grew and he replied, "You know, sometimes it's still a little odd when you look at me like that; because I still see my Captain, and I wonder if you've always looked at me like that, and I just never noticed."

Mikhail felt his heart leap in a strange way, and knew he was falling again. He couldn't help it; so much of him wanted Harry forever that all other thoughts and feelings were pale in comparison.

_Merlin, I'm falling in love with Harry Potter. How could this happen in so sort a time? It feels like yesterday he asked me to be his boyfriend, but also like we've been together forever._

_But there's still so much I don't know about him._

"Mikhail? Are you okay?"

The Russian blinked. "Oh…yeah," he smiled. "Just thinking about you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Gah. You are so soggy."

Mikhail stood then and held Harry from behind, crossing his arms over Harry's chest. "I am. But I can't help it." Then he kissed Harry on the neck and grabbed his bag. "I'll meet you outside so I can walk you home."

"Okay."

Mikhail left Harry then, his mind so full it was empty. He forced himself not to think about Harry's wank, and oh God, all the scars… _Just Leave it be,_ he told himself. _Just leave it be._

* * *

Draco couldn't be sure why, but something about the presence of the woman in his arms was bugging him. 

Perhaps it was just because what he _really_ wanted was for Harry to be in his arms. He really couldn't understand how he felt so intensely for the black-haired brat. They only had one night together… But Draco loved him, didn't he?

And he loved Raven, didn't he?

Okay, so having Raven over that evening wasn't a bad or unpleasant thing at all. In fact, he'd hardly seen her at all in the past week, the last time being Saturday, after the game. And that was only two days ago. So perhaps that wasn't so long ago, but it sure felt like he hadn't seen her in ages.

She had come over after dinner, and Draco took her up to his room and pulled her onto his bed and into his arms, and they had been lying there, just like that, for an hour or so now, chatting idly, and kissing languidly, sweetly, when the urge took them. It was nice. Really nice, actually. He felt perfectly content to just lie there.

So maybe that was the problem? He felt like he should want more, when right now, he didn't? Was loving Harry putting him off women?

Raven, sensing something upsetting in Draco's thoughts raised herself up on one arm. "Draco, sweetie, are you alright? You seem…well, like something's bothering you."

Draco frowned but shook his head. "No, I'm alright, I guess. Just…mentally exhausted I think, from all that's been going on lately."

"Do you need me to take your mind off of things?" she asked, smirking and trailing her fingers through his hair.

Draco smiled. "No, that's alright. I actually wanted to talk to you about Winter Hols."

"Oh? What about them?"

"Well…I wanted to confirm our plans. Were you still going to spend a few days with your parents?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "Yes. Since we're all 'getting along better now', they'd like me to be there for Christmas. But that leaves you alone, and I don't want that."

Draco shrugged. "It's okay. I'm only going to be at the Manor going through things."

"Draco Malfoy, it is not okay! You should have someone over. Like Harry. He's not going anywhere, is he? And aren't his friends going to be on their honeymoon?"

"Yes, but he'll probably still spend the Hols with the Weasleys. They're like his family, or so I hear."

"There's no harm in asking."

"I was thinking I might, anyhow."

Raven nodded. "I'll be back on December 26th."

"I'm planning on having a New Years Party. Mostly for Blaise's benefit. He wants to see Daphne."

Raven smiled and lay back down in the crook of Draco's arm. "I hope he doesn't frighten her into delusional paranoia before then."

"Yes, he told me he was going to send another letter."

"Oh, great. She's going to think all sorts of crazy things now, and she already thinks he's some sort of mad man."

"Yeah, I know. I tried to tell him that, but I think he's set on his path. I'm pretty positive he has no idea what he's doing. He's never honestly pursued someone before, and now he's making it like one of his seduction games…but sappier." Draco made a face Raven couldn't see. Strangely, she made the same face.

"Do you think we should help him?"

Draco grinned. "Nah. I'm actually quite amused by the whole situation."

"But back to your holiday plans. You can't spend Christmas alone, Draco. It's just not on."

"I know. But I really don't think your parents would appreciate seeing me, and Blaise is off to Italy. Which reminds me, his crazy mother is going to be in town for a few days."

Raven hugged Draco close. "Don't worry, love. I won't let her get you."

Draco held her back. "She's just…ugh. I don't know. It's not like she's not fit or anything, but she's _Blaise's mum_! And she's had how many husbands now? I just don't get it."

"We'll keep you hidden. She'll never know you were here."

Draco laughed. "No, that's alright. I'll just…point her in someone else's direction or something."

Raven smiled but said, "You changed the subject again, Drake."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. I was hoping you wouldn't have noticed."

"Fat chance of that."

"I realise that now."

Raven sat up fully and looked down into her boyfriend's resistant gaze. "Seriously, Draco, what are you going to do? I'm more than willing-"

"No, you are not blowing off your parents, and no, I'm not going with you. I'll be fine. Look, I'll ask Harry, okay? And if that doesn't work out…I'll hang myself from the balustrade."

Glaring, Raven said, "That's not funny, Draco."

Draco put his hands on her arms. "I'll be fine, love. I promise."

"No, that's it. I'm writing my parents right now. They'll be joining _us_ for Christmas." She moved to get off the bed, but Draco stopped her.

"Raven, the Manor will be in no shape to have guests by that time. I mean…not guests like your parents. I'd want to impress them, and having them come to a dust-filled house that hasn't been lived in for several years is not the way to go about it."

"Don't you have house-elves?"

"A few, but even they haven't been there for a while. I sent them to Hogwarts for the time being."

Raven sighed. "Then how about this; I spend the first few days with my parents, then Christmas eve with you, and then we both go over to my parents for Christmas. One day. That's all. And I can help you with cleaning and getting things in order after that."

Draco conceded. "Okay, fine. But let me ask Harry first."

Raven nodded. "Alright then."

Once they'd settled down again, Draco ventured, "So, Raven…if I'm finally meeting your parents in a context other than that of their accusations of my luring you into the Dark Side, where are we going? Am I your boyfriend? Your friend? Lover? Fiancé?"

"Well, Draco…which do you want to be? We could tell them of our intention to marry, or merely keep it at a plutonic level, to avoid all sorts of questions and possible immediate legal proceedings and preparations."

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning, if we only reveal that we're dating, Father will ask about your future intentions. If we reveal that we've thought about marriage, my parents will want to know why it wasn't approached in a formal manner, and when the date is. If we try to act like friends, they'll see straight through us. Lover is out of the question. They'd kick you out on your arse."

"Well, wouldn't the less-abrasive option be to say we're dating? I have no problem saying that I am interested in settling down, but wanted to wait until after graduation before I proposed anything."

"That could work."

"Is that where we're headed, though, Raven? Do we still want to get married?"

There was a long pause before Raven said quietly, "Are you…do you not want to?"

Draco sighed. "I do. I can't think of marrying anyone else. But I… You know that right now I'm caught up in this thing with Harry, and I don't… I can't let him go. I need to have him. I'm just not sure where that leaves us."

"It leaves us in the same place, I think, Draco. We could stay with Harry as long as he chooses, if he ever chose to. Or you could be with him, for however long he'll stay with you. I'm okay with that. In the here and now, I'd like you both, but if that doesn't happen, that's okay. I'll still marry you, if you'd like an heir."

"What? That's not what this is about, Raven. Of course I want an heir, but that's not why I'd marry you. I'd marry you because I love you. Because I want you in my life, in my bed, in my house. What exactly do _you_ want?"

"I want you to be happy. I want Harry to be happy."

"You don't want to be happy too?"

"That will make me happy."

Draco pursed his lips, feeling frustrated. "You don't want to marry me." It wasn't a question.

"Draco, I'll want what you want. And right now, at this very moment, you want Harry. I bet you wish he was here, lying with you, rather than me."

"That's not-"

"It is," she said, cutting him off. "You want Harry, and I'm willing to do anything to get you what you want."

Draco paused for a moment. It sounded like… "Raven, are you saying you'll break up with me, so Harry will think he needs to come back to me? That he can, now that you're out of the picture?"

"What? Of course not."

Draco was feeling extremely put-out. This wasn't making any sense. Raven wasn't telling him something, he was sure of it.

"Raven, tell me the truth."

"I am. I still want to be with you. I just want Harry to be with you too."

"But what about you? What about those things you said about not wanting him as much as you had? But you still want him? I mean…how could you just let me be with him, knowing how I feel about him? How do you know I'll come back to you?"

Draco couldn't see it, but Raven's gaze became distant and knowing. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

And that seemed to be the end of the conversation.

* * *

Raven entered her room with the full intention of passing out on her bed. It had been a long Friday, and was not particularly keen on letting it drag out any longer. She'd been bitchy, irritable and completely out of it for most of the day. Not getting any sleep could do that to a person. 

But apparently, her day wasn't over yet.

"I got another one, Raven! The creepy stalker-guy sent me another letter!" Daphne cried from bed, holding the parchment out for Raven to read.

Raven blinked. Couldn't a girl skip dinner and just go to bed? "Okay, hand it here. Did it come with anything?"

"Yes, this…well, sort of nice-looking statue." Daphne gestured to the small marble statue on the nightstand. It was of a girl, her arms outstretched, and her legs in motion as if she was running. It looked as though a tree had ensnared her, though, and was growing around her – her limbs becoming the trunk and branches, and her hair the leaves. Raven looked down at the newest letter from Blaise.

_Friday, 7 November, 2003_

_Dearest Daphne –_

_As I tried to think of what I could gift you with this evening, I came across a book of name etymology. After finding your name, I realised that there was Ancient Greek myth involving a woman named Daphne, which means "laurel" in Greek._

_You see, the God Apollo incurred the wrath of Eros, son of Aphrodite. And because of this, Eros shot Apollo with an arrow to excite love, and the nymph Daphne, one to repel it. Apollo chased after his first love, but she would have nothing to do with him. In desperation, to rid her of Apollo's lusts, she cried out to her father, the River God Peneus, and he transformed her into a tree. A laurel tree._

_So I found a picture of a statue of Daphne transforming, and replicated it for you. You have the beauty of a tree, everlasting and strong._

_I do hope this story does not deter you from seeking me out. I am not the God Apollo. I wish to be with you, yes, but will walk away if you do not wish it._

_Give me a chance. A chance to reveal, slowly, who I am. A chance for you to realise who I am. A chance is all I ask._

_You shall hear from me soon._

Again, it went unsigned.

Raven looked up at Daphne, who was looking at the statue, but not touching it.

"Who is it, Raven? How does he keep getting into our room?"

"Concealment spells?" she replied. "Maybe he lives on campus."

"Maybe…"

"Is this…scaring you, Daph? Maybe you should really try to find out who it is. It might make you feel better."

"I'm not sure if I'm scared or not, Raven. I think maybe I should be, but…"

Raven waited patiently for her to finish.

"He seems kinda…sweet."

"Behind the creepy stalker thing, you mean?"

Daphne smiled. "Yeah. It is a pretty statue, though, isn't it?"

Raven moved over for a closer look. "Yes, it's quite beautiful."

"I was afraid it might be a portkey. But I checked. It's clean."

"He's trying to show you that you can trust him."

Daphne cocked an eyebrow. "You sound like you might know who it is."

Raven handed back the letter. "No, sorry. I have no idea."

"Oh, did Draco tell you? He's going to have a New Years party. Practically everyone we know is invited."

"Oh, yes, he told me," Raven said, flopping back onto her bed in exhaustion.

"Are you okay?"

"Just really tired. Dreams are keeping me up. And today was a shitty day."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want me to bring you up dinner?"

Raven yawned, pulling off her boots and snuggling into her duvet, not bothering with removing her clothes. "No, that's okay. I'm just gonna go to bed early."

"Alright. Sleep well." Daphne moved towards the door of the room.

"Don't worry about this guy, whoever he is, okay, Daph? I'm sure it'll all be fine."

Daphne turned and smiled grimly. "I'm sure it will be. It's just quite creepy. And now I've got to piece together my own clues," she said, and left.

_Oh, Blaise… Why couldn't you have just told her point blank and be done with it?_

* * *

**A/N:**_ Well, I don't have much to say, other than I hope you enjoyed it and I hope to hear from you soon! If you want more updates on how the story is going, my life and all that other shaz, please sign up for my mailing list (only from me, no spam!), which is on my website. I tend to do more in-depth stuff on my LiveJournal, which is also linked on my site. Please feel free to friend me, and I will friend you. But if you want up-to-date information on my stories and if you want to know when they're ready to read before anyone else, the best place to be is on my mailing list. I'm plugging shamelessly here, can't you tell? Oh, and if you already didn't know, I've been writing another MUCH shorter story for a fic challenge called "Original Sinn", which is also on my website and I'm starting to post here and on FictionAlley as well. Check it out, if you haven't already and tell me what you think! Love you all - Aki_


	26. Holiday Plans

**Chapter Notes: **_Hello! I am happy to present chapter twenty-five for your enjoyment this week. Yes, I know it's a litle bit shorter...but the next chapter should be longer - the citizens of the B.I. Campus are getting a vistor this next chapter... hehehe. Also, I am working on chapter five of Original Sinn this week (and possibly the next, depending on how fast I write), so look forward to that, if you're reading it. If you're not, go! Vamoose! You have four chapters to catch up on! Well, after you read this latest chapter, of course...lol._

_I want to thank **Omi**, **IcyAurora8**, and **Michelle **for beta-ing this chapter for me. They are completely invaluable, in every way imaginable._

_ Please enjoy, "Holiday Plans"._**  
**

* * *

**Chapter XXV – Holiday Plans**

* * *

Draco, feeling a little nervous and not entirely sure why, walked through the main thoroughfare of the library, approaching the dark head hunched over parchment and texts in the back. 

"Hello," he started, waiting for the head to rise.

Harry looked up from his work, smiling at the sight of Draco. "Hey Draco."

Draco sat down at the unspoken invitation and leaned forward. Harry's eyebrow raised and he leaned in a little too, wondering what to expect next.

"Harry…I was wondering what your plans for the Hols were."

"The holiday?" Harry asked, looking surprised. "Um…I hadn't really thought about it. I suppose I'll be spending it with the Weasleys, though it'll be a bit odd without Ron or Hermione there."

"So they will be gone on their honeymoon, then?"

"Yes. Draco, why are you asking?"

"Well, I… I'm going back to the Manor for the first time in a few years, you know, to go through things, and no one will be there, and so I was hoping," Draco took a breath and exhaled quickly, "that you might like to stay with me."

Harry's mouth parted in shock. He hadn't been expecting an invitation to Malfoy Manor. He quickly tried to imagine having Christmas in a big mansion, probably filled with dust and old portraits with temperaments like Mrs. Black, and a small supper made by house elves and dark corridors, and just the two of them: Harry and Draco, versus a Christmas full of puddings, and laughter, and shiny faery lights and bright wrapping paper and lots of people crowded around a table…and he didn't know if he could combine the two such different images.

Draco, picking up on Harry's hesitation said, "I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine. I'm sure it'll be a lot different than an affair with all the red-heads. No Molly Weasley at the stove all day or anything. I can cook something passable for Christmas supper though," he added, smiling shyly at the table.

Harry smiled, chuckling. "Yes, I'm sure it would be very different. I'd like to, Draco. We can't have you being alone in that big house all by yourself, can we?"

Draco nodded, feeling very satisfied. "Raven will be by at some point, and I was thinking, if we can clean the place up enough, that we can have a New Years party…you know, loosen up before our last term…"

Harry's grin grew. "That sounds like fun." His smile fell as he thought of Mikhail. "I…I should probably make sure Mikhail doesn't have plans for us, though…"

Harry didn't miss the dark look in Draco's eyes at the mention of his boyfriend. "He could come to the party, if he wanted." The invitation obviously didn't extend for the whole holiday.

"Well…I think we both know he wouldn't want to, but I'll ask. I've actually been wondering if he was going to ask me to his family's house for the holiday."

"But I asked you first," Draco said, mentally smacking his forehead at hearing how stupid and petulant he just sounded.

But Harry took it in stride. "Yes, you did. I might have to make a compromise. I'll ask him, and make him understand I have to be there for you. You're my friend, and you'll be all alone, and that's not right."

Draco smiled. "Thanks, Harry."

"No problem, Draco. I always wondered where you lived and what it was like."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Even when I hated you."

Draco preened, tossing his hair. "Well, I _have_ always been enviable."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You think so? In what department?"

"All of them. Looks, charm, wit, intelligence, wealth, stature…_skill with a broomstick_…" Draco emphasised, throwing Harry a meaningful look that implied he was talking about more than Quidditch.

Arching an eyebrow, Harry replied, "I was always better than you in _that_ department."

"Really?" the blond challenged.

Enjoying the banter, though knowing he shouldn't, Harry said, "You know I am."

Both smiling, they chuckled nervously; both feeling a little on edge at the flirtation, neither knowing where it was coming from, and one of them not entirely willing to admit that it was something he might want. Harry was sticking to his decision, and he didn't want to lead Draco on, hoping that the blond understood exactly where they needed to stand with each other, even if Harry wasn't exactly sure if that's where he wanted them to stand himself.

* * *

After Quidditch practice, Harry shot Draco a meaningful look, and stayed outside the locker room to talk to Mikhail. 

"Hey you," Mikhail said, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders and smiling softly down at him.

"Hey. Let's sit down." Mikhail led them over to a bench that was situated on the edge of the pitch. "I wanted to talk to you about the holiday," Harry said as they sat, straddling the bench and facing each other.

"Yeah…I was going to ask you to come stay with me and my family. I want you to meet my mum and my cousins. I think you'll like Michaela, Nikolai and Ana."

"Well, you see…Draco's already asked me to go stay with him."

"He has." Mikhail's voice implied that he was not happy about that bit of information.

"Yes. He's going back to Malfoy Manor for the first time in years, and he'll be alone, going through his family's things. I want to be there for him. He shouldn't be alone on Christmas."

Mikhail's jaw twitched, which Harry recognized as a sign that he agreed with Harry, but didn't want to admit it. "How about we make a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yes. You spend Christmas with me. Then you can spend New Years at Malfoy's."

"But he shouldn't be alone at Christmas-"

Mikhail held up a hand. "I'm not saying he should either. But I'm your boyfriend, and I think I should get first priority here." He leaned forward and lifted Harry's chin up with a gentle hand, kissing him slowly on the mouth. "I want you with me on Christmas."

Harry bit his lip adorably. "I want to be with you too…but Mikhail, my friends are really important to me."

"I understand that, Harry. I know you know I don't like Malfoy, but at least I'm letting him steal you away from me for the New Year. I could just say no."

Not feeling completely right about the situation, but not really feeling like he had any better choices other than fighting, which he didn't want to do, he nodded. "Okay. I'll let Draco know."

Mikhail smiled and kissed Harry again. "It's gonna suck, not being able to kiss you at midnight."

"I'll be thinking about you," Harry replied, leaning into an embrace. "But you don't own me, you know," he said, feeling he needed to get that point across. "If you'd have said no, I wouldn't have gone home with you at all."

"Is that so?" Mikhail said, running his hands down Harry's back and through his hair.

"Yes, that's so." Harry pulled back and put on his 'I'm-making-a-point-and-not-moving-from-it' face. "You know I like you, Mikhail, but I can't be owned. All I've ever wanted is to do what _I_ wanted to do…not something dictated by others. So, just because you're my boyfriend, does not mean you can tell me what to do."

Mikhail chuckled. "That's what I love about you." He pulled Harry close and kissed him again, deeper this time, and they sat there for many minutes, enjoying the feeling of each other's mouths.

As they pulled away, Mikhail murmured, "I was thinking of letting Draco play this weekend."

Harry looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yes," the Captain said, nodding. "He did really well in Germany, despite our loss. And he did well in practice today and last week."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "You're not trying to win brownie points with me, are you?"

"Me? Of course not," Mikhail laughed, pulling Harry close to him once again, and watched the last of the sunset disappear from the sky, turning everything into shades of black and dark blue.

Harry sighed a little against Mikhail's chest, wondering what the older man was up to, if anything, but glad he at least came to a compromise with him about Draco. He had expected to have to fight him about the idea. He shivered in the late October cold, and with Mikhail, stood and wandered into the locker room, just as most of their team mates were on their way out.

* * *

"Come in." 

Harry opened the door to find Draco once more curled on his bed surrounded by research. "Hey, Draco. I talked to Mikhail."

"And?" the blond said, looking up from his papers to smile at Harry.

"And…I'm going to spend Christmas with him and New Years with you."

Draco pursed his lips and looked back down to his parchment, scribbling a note. "I see."

"He had wanted to invite me to stay with him-"

"I get it, Harry. You had to make a compromise. It's fine."

"It doesn't sound like it's fine."

Draco let out a breath and looked up at Harry, staring at him a moment before smiling tentatively. "At least I get to kiss you at midnight instead of Chaikovsky."

Harry let out a laugh under his breath, shaking his head. "Fat chance, Draco."

Draco shrugged. "We'll see after all the alcohol I'm going to feed you."

"You really don't let up, do you?"

Again Draco shrugged. "Sometimes. I'm teasing, Harry. I'd be happy to have you over for even a little while."

"Then I'll be over a little after Christmas, okay?"

"Alright."

"But you'll still be alone on Christmas, won't you?"

"I sorta have a back-up plan with Raven. She's basically going to ditch her parents, but we're going over there for Christmas, and she'll be with me the rest of the time. She insisted, even though I didn't want her to blow off her parents like that."

"She loves you; she doesn't care what her parents think about that. I wouldn't."

Draco narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I know."

"Well, I've got to go, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay. Have a good night, Harry."

"You too, Draco. Don't work too hard."

"If I want to get this thesis done by next term, I'll have too."

Harry just rolled his eyes as he closed the door to Draco's room behind him.

* * *

"Oh Harry! It's been too long, dear, you really should stop by or owl us more often…" Molly Weasley said, pulling Harry into hug he wished he had the will to avoid, but some part of him loved the near-suffocation every time he met the older lady. She was the best thing he could come by for a mother, and he couldn't wish for anything more. 

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," he replied, pulling back and smiling down at her. "Things have been a little crazy lately."

Mrs. Weasley smiled up at him and rubbed her hands up and down his arms. "Oh, I've heard, dear. How is that handsome boyfriend of yours doing?"

Harry felt a blush grow on his cheeks. "Er…well, I suppose…"

"Mum! Stop bothering Harry about Mikhail! I let you come today because you said you had to talk to us about the reception," Ron said, turning back from leading Hermione and Ginny into Madam Malkin's for robe fittings.

"Ronald, I hardly get to see any of you anymore – all my babies are grown up. I have a right as a mother to wonder what's going on in their lives." She turned to Harry as they started walking towards the robe shop. "You know you're like my eighth boy, right, Harry?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. You're the best mum an orphan could have." He smiled as a blush grew on Mrs. Weasley's face and she became a little flustered.

"Well," she hedged, smoothing down her skirt. "I try my best, love."

"I know you do."

"You're coming for Christmas, right? Even though the kids will be in Greece?" she asked.

"Er…actually, I'll be spending it with Mikhail." Harry tried to ignore the startled glances Ron and Hermione gave him and the raise of eyebrows from the Weasley women. He hadn't told them yet.

"Oh, well, I hope you have fun dear," Mrs. Weasley said politely. "You'll have to stop by for your presents, you know."

"I will Mrs. Weasley."

They entered the shop and adjusted to the dimmer light. The smell of fabrics and dust was something Harry would never forget from his first time in Diagon Alley. It was the first time he'd ever had clothes just for him, and other than the also memorable awkward meeting of Draco, he treasured that time so long ago when everything was new to him and he didn't even know who he was to the rest of the Wizarding World.

Harry sat down next to Ron, who watched as Ginny went behind the dividers to get her robes fitted. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione wandered around the shop, and Mrs. Weasley needled Hermione about the details of the wedding. Thankfully, Hermione was a detailed-oriented girl, or Harry wasn't sure she could have fired back the answers with such grace and calm.

"Nervous?" Harry asked Ron out of the corner of his mouth.

Ron stopped rubbing his palms against the legs of his jeans. "No…"

Harry grinned. "You're a terrible liar, Ron."

"Now why would I be nervous about trying on my wedding robes?"

"Because now you realise just how real this all is."

Ron swallowed hard and nodded, his eyes roaming the store. "I still can't believe sometimes that 'Mione and I are finally getting married. I remember when I couldn't even get up the courage to ask her out for the first time."

"I have a feeling she would have eventually knocked up you upside your head with a cauldron to get your attention."

"Oh, she's always had my attention," Ron said a little wistfully, his eyes trailing Hermione as she walked around the shop.

Harry chuckled. "I know."

Ginny came out from behind the divider, her robes a beautiful minty green, and even without her hair done, she looked like a beautiful wood sprite.

Ron and Harry stood, and Hermione and Mrs. Weasley came over to look.

"Oh, Ginny, dear, you look lovely," her mum breathed.

Hermione jumped a little, clasping her hands. "It's perfect, Ginny. You look wonderful."

Ron just stood there, mouth a little gape, like he had when he had seen her at the Yule Ball.

"Wow…Ginny…you look…beautiful," Harry said, staring at her like he'd forgotten how beautiful she was.

"Stop fussing," said Ginny, wiggling in place. "The pins are sticking."

"I'm sorry dear, but you didn't let me finish altering…" Madam Malkin explained.

"No, that's fine."

Harry moved forward and took her hands. "Now I feel bad for never taking notice."

Ginny blushed and squeezed his hands back. "That's okay, Harry. It never would have worked between us anyway," she said, smiling ruefully.

Dropping her hands, Harry stepped back and let Ginny disappear from view again.

"So, Hermione, I made up this list of food for the wedding reception," Mrs. Weasley said, bringing them all out of their thoughts. She produced a very long roll of parchment from her bag and offered it to Hermione.

Hermione took it while the men resumed their seats. Rolling it out, she didn't even bat an eyelash as it hit the floor and rolled past her feet. Harry raised his eyebrows, and Ron rolled his eyes, frowning.

"Mum, we really don't need that much food…there isn't going to be an army there!"

"Hush, Ronald," both Mrs. Weasley and Hermione said. They looked at each other calculatingly for a moment before smiling and leaning over the list together. Hermione conjured a never-ending-ink quill from her bag and started crossing things out and making little scribbles as she and Mrs. Weasley talked to each other in quiet whispers.

"No, we must have that, it's Ron's favourite," Mrs. Weasley was saying.

"Yes, but he'll eat anything," Hermione whispered back.

Trying not to laugh, Harry looked over to Ron, who was glowering at the two women. "They're conspiring against me, Harry. I just know it."

"I think you're being paranoid."

He snorted. "We'll see."

Ginny reappeared, dressed in her normal robes, and Madam Malkin ushered the two men into the back, leaving the women to their own devices.

Harry stood on the little stool, now towering over the smaller Madam Malkin, and slipped off his robes to pull on the dark green velvet ones the seamstress handed him. Ron yanked on the dark blue ones he had, emerging with his hair more ruffled than usual, and a distinct choking look on his face as he pulled on the high collar.

"Could you loosen this a bit?" Ron asked, and with a swoosh of a wand, it was loosened. "Thanks again, Harry," Ron said, raising his arms and letting Malkin pin and adjust until the robes were hanging right.

"For what?" Harry asked, waiting his turn.

"For paying for these. I know they can't be cheap."

"Hey, stop that," Harry said. "I wanted to. And I don't care about the price, Ron. My two best friends should have the most beautiful wedding in the world. They deserve it, more than any other couple I know."

Ron, in his usual bashfulness, rubbed the back of his head and smiled. "Thanks, Harry."

"It's my pleasure. You should know by now that I'd give all the Galleons in my vault to you and your family if they would accept it. You _are_ my family."

"We know."

"And I don't think any less of you for being proud and not accepting it. Just know that I'll help whenever you need me to."

Ron nodded, then turned to Harry and gestured to his newly fitted robes. "What do you think?"

Harry smiled as Madam Malkin moved over to him. "You look like a man who's ready to get married to the girl of his dreams."

Ron grinned widely and hopped off the stool to go show his new robes to the three women on the other side of the screen. Harry immediately heard 'ooh's and 'ah's over Ron, and he was pretty sure Hermione kissed him when he heard a loud smacking noise, and Ron saying feverously, "'Mione! Not in front of my mum!"

Again, Harry followed the madam's instruction, lifting his arms there, standing straighter here…waiting patiently as she went about her work. This was one thing he didn't feel he had to be rushed for. He could just stand here and let the woman do her work, and in minutes he'd have his very own clothes.

When she was finished, Harry hopped down from his own stool and went out to show everyone. Mrs. Weasley immediately gushed, remarking how well the fabric matched his eyes. Hermione ran her hand down his arm, and told Madam Malkin that she would like to see some white trim on Harry's robes, and silver on Ginny's. The woman nodded, and waited for Harry and Ron to disrobe before setting some scissors and thread to work on the robes.

Hermione was next, and she passed off the food list to Mrs. Weasley before Ron could snatch it and disappeared behind the screen. When she emerged several moments later, still wearing her normal robes, everyone looked at her oddly. Harry didn't bat an eyelash.

"Well, we want to see it dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Is it not ready?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's ready."

"Well, then why didn't you show us?" the older woman asked.

"It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

"It's a Muggle thing," Harry put in.

"Don't worry, Ginny," she said to the perplexed girl, "I'll show you when we get home, okay?"

Ron threw up his hands. "Agh, whatever. I've got no say in anything anyhow."

Hermione stepped forward and put her hand on Ron's arm. "That's not true. It's just a thing…a small thing. Believe me. You'll want to wait until you see me at the joining ceremony."

"But you got to see me," Ron said lamely.

"Yes, but you wouldn't know if the robes were finished even if I told you so."

"Gee…thanks, love."

"No problem," she smiled. "Now, we've got to go see the florist, and the magistrate."

"I'd actually like to go shopping on my own, if you don't mind," Harry said.

"Can I come?" Ginny said.

"Sure."

"Alright," said Hermione, and she turned to Madam Malkin. "Will you be sending these to us?"

"Oh yes, dear, I can do that. I'll just need the final payment."

"I've already paid for mine," Ginny said as Harry stepped forward.

"I'll take care of it. Here you go," he said, once Madam Malkin gave him the ticket and he deposited some Galleons into her hand. "Thank you."

"It's no problem, dear. My pleasure."

Harry nodded, walking across the store to join his friends and family at the door. He bid her a wave goodbye and left the store; giving Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley a wave goodbye also, they branched off and went their separate ways. Mrs. Weasley reminded him to floo over more often, and Harry promised he would try.

"So, what kind of shopping are you planning on doing, Harry?" Ginny asked as they started down the narrow cobblestone.

"Wedding, mostly," he said, smiling. "But I should probably start on Christmas as well. I have no idea what to get Draco or Mikhail."

"How's that going, by the way?"

Harry sighed heavily, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair. "Oh, fuck, I don't know."

Ginny chuckled. "That bad, huh?"

"This has got to be the most fucked up situation I've ever been in, Gin," Harry said with some trepidation, realising at the last minute that Ginny didn't know about what had really happened between him and Draco.

"And coming from you…that's saying something," she replied as they stepped into a gift shop.

"It is. I really like Mikhail, so I don't know why this is so difficult."

"I'm thinking it's because he hates Draco?"

"Well, yes, but even Ron's been able to get past that. For the most part."

"Don't forget the rest of your friends, Harry," she said, wandering around the collectibles.

Harry nodded, following her. "Yes, I know. You guys have all be great. Accepting Draco, I mean."

Ginny nodded. "And Mikhail doesn't have that background, though, does he? I'm betting, from his point of view, that Draco's just as annoying as he always has been to us. I mean, Malfoy hasn't changed _that_ much, Harry. He's still an annoying, self-centred prat."

Harry had to smile at that. "Yes, I suppose he is. Though he doesn't annoy me…except when he does, if that makes any sense."

Ginny said, "Well, it doesn't, but I think I know what you mean."

"He doesn't like Mikhail, either."

"I've gathered that from Hermione."

"You guys talk about me?"

"We're girls, Harry. Of course we talk about you."

"Anything else I need to know?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not that I know of. I mean…_is_ there something I should know?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said, picking up an inscribed silver serving spoon from a set and looking at it with more interest than was necessary.

"Harry, I know people keep their secrets. That's fine. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there were a whole slough of things you've never told anybody. I don't care about that. What I care about is you, and how you're handling whatever _is_ going on that the rest of us don't know about. I don't care what it is. I just want to make sure you're okay and not in over your head."

Harry nodded, setting the spoon down. "Thanks, Ginny. That means a lot. I'm just…not really willing to talk about it to anyone. But I'm fine, despite what I said outside. Yes, this situation is fucked up, but it's not impossible. I've been through worse. Much different, but worse."

"I don't need to send a bat-bogey hex at any male of the student body, do I?" Ginny pulled out her wand and fingered it suggestively.

Harry laughed. "No, no. Not yet, anyhow. It's mainly just got to do with Draco and Mikhail hating each other and acting like children about it. I just want Mikhail to accept Draco like you guys do, you know?"

Ginny nodded, putting her wand away. "I understand. He's been a big part of your life, lately."

"Yeah, he has," Harry said with a hidden smile. "So, how's it going with you and Seamus? I haven't really talked to either of you lately."

"Oh, we're doing fine," Ginny said, looking at a little tree that mimicked the weather outside. Currently, it was nearly leafless, its tiny leaves sitting around its base, and it was swaying slightly in a phantom wind, casting long shadows, as it was getting later in the afternoon.

"That's good," Harry said, and noticed a little charm box that had a card above it reading '_A couple puts all their thoughts and love inside, keeping what's written within alive._' "Hey, Gin, what do you think about this?" and he gestured her over.

Ginny looked at it and at the small wooden box, intricately carved with Celtic love knots and runes of longevity. "It's beautiful, Harry. I think you should get it. It'll do my brother good to write what's in his head down."

Harry smiled ruefully, picking it up. "Alright. I'll get it." He took it to the counter near the front of the store and set it on the counter. "I'd like to buy this, please."

"Would you like it gift-wrapped?" the young clerk asked.

"Yes, please."

Harry watched as the man whipped his wand through the air, sending silver tissue paper sailing over and wrapping the circular box nicely, topped with shiny dark red ribbon and placed in a square box which was also wrapped in a similar fashion.

"That'll be 15 Galleons, 5 Sickles, and 2 Knuts."

Harry counted the coins from his pouch and handed them over, thanking the clerk with a bright smile as he took the bag with the gift inside from him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Harry Potter. Please, visit us again."

Harry's expression was startled for a second before he smiled. "I will." The clerk winked at him and he and Ginny left the shop.

"He flirted with you," Ginny said, smiling to herself.

"What? He did not!"

"Oh, Harry…you're still so naïve."

"Oi, watch it. I'm older than you, and better with a wand."

"I'm sure you are," she replied, snickering.

"Oh, shut up," Harry jabbed back playfully, taking the suggestive comment how it was intended. "It's not like I'm that experienced. In _anything_," he added.

Ginny put a hand on his arm. "Oh, Harry, don't think less of yourself because of that. I'm sure Ron still thinks I'm a naïve virgin."

"You're not?"

But Ginny caught the laughter in his eyes. "No, of course not, silly. You caught me and Seamus snogging, remember?"

Harry's face turned red. "Yeah, I remember." Then he laughed. "I also remember your faces when you saw Draco! That was hilarious!"

"Very funny, Harry. Anyhow, Ron would probably kill Seamus if he knew what he's done to his 'poor naïve little sister'. God knows he'd have killed Dean if he wasn't already gone."

"You loved, Dean, didn't you?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes. A part of me still feels a little strange, being with his best friend, but it was a long time ago, and Seamus and I are happy. I know that's what Dean would have wanted. Seamus grew on me, you know?"

Harry nodded. "I'd want my boyfriend or girlfriend to be happy if I died, too."

"Hm. Well, enough about that, the memorial is in February...we should prepare for that too. But first, let's get us some early Christmas shopping done!" Ginny clapped her hands and took off down the alley, her bright autumn hair bouncing with her swift gait.

Harry rolled his eyes and chased after her, enjoying the rest of his day with no worries on his mind whatsoever.

* * *

_**A/N: **Nothing much to say...just please take the time to review (and none of that "please update soon" crap...something substantial people!) Tell me what you liked, or what you think is going to happen, or who you think will be visiting...I left a clue a few chapters back... :wink wink: I really enjoy hearing form my reviewers...please write as much as you can! (It keeps the muse alive, you know...)_


	27. Remus Visits

**_Chapter Notes_**_: Ah...well. Hm. This chapter and the next two are rather short, but I hope they'll tide you over until I can jump-start my muse again. In actuality, these chapters were hard to write -- not in the technical sense...I've got all the chapters planned out, so it isn't thinking up things that's so much the problem, it's that almost everything sounds just...like crap to me. Or that it doesn't flow right. It's sorta hard to explain, I guess. I think a lot of it has to do with me not being as excited about these last few chapters as other things coming up in the story, so I don't want to spend as much time on it, so I don't, then I think it's crap, and then... Well. You get the picture. But, from what I've heard so far, no one can tell the difference! lol_

_Well, let me say that without my betas, **IcyAurora8**, **Michelle **and **Omi**, that these chapters wouldn't be out, and I'd probably still be struggling. So, all my love goes to them for these chapters, as I'd always be lost without them. :)_

_I know you've all waited a while for these, so I'll shut up now, and see you at the end of the chapter! I hope you enjoy! _

* * *

**Chapter XXVI – Remus Visits**

* * *

Hearing a knock on the door, Neville went to answer it, still a little sleep-mussed and waiting for the girls to come over and fix breakfast – he mused that he had probably become too dependant on them for food. The least he could do was make himself some bloody toast.

Opening the door, he blinked at the bright early-winter morning, squinting until he could see the silhouetted figure in front of him.

"Good morning, Neville."

Recognising the man, he smiled. "Wow, I wasn't expecting you! I'll go get Harry!" Letting the man in, Neville dashed upstairs, knocking once before striding into Harry's room.

"Harry, Harry! Wake up!"

"What is it, Neville?" Harry asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Mr. Lupin is here!"

A smile instantly lit up Harry's face. "Remus?" At Neville's nod, Harry threw back the covers and slipped on his glasses, running past the other man before dashing down the stairs. Upon seeing Remus, still a little shabby around the edges, Harry cried out, "Remus!" and launched himself at the older man.

"Whoa! Harry, it's good to see you. But we're both a little older, and you're not as small as you once were."

"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly, stepping back from the embrace that nearly knocked Remus over. "What brings you here?"

"Your Quidditch game, remember? I told you I'd come for the next home game. It is November 15th, isn't it?"

"Oh! Oh, yes. Well, er…I'm not playing."

"You're not?"

"Er, no. Draco is."

"Draco Malfoy?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Mikhail – my boyfriend – put him in the line-up this game."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Well then. I'll just have to watch him instead."

Harry smiled. "Do you want to go out for breakfast? Have you eaten already?"

"Just some tea. But yes, I'd like to."

"Great! There's this nice place in the village. Let me go get dressed, and I'll meet you down here in a few minutes."

"Take your time, Harry. I'm in no rush."

Harry dashed back up the stairs, taking two at a time. He threw on the first jumper he could find (a Weasley one a few years old) and a pair of jeans, shoving on socks and shoes and dashing back down the stairs, grabbing his heavy cloak on the way.

Remus looked up from his conversation with Neville, and said, "That was quick."

"I'm anxious for food and conversation with an old friend," was Harry's reply.

"Well, we best get going then. Good day, Neville. I'm sure I'll see you before I leave this evening."

"Well, you will be staying for dinner, won't you?" Harry asked.

"If I'm welcome, of course."

"You're always welcome, Remus."

Smiling, the two men bid Neville a farewell, and started walking towards the village. "So, Harry, how've you been?"

Harry chuckled. "I've been alright. Things have been…up and down, as usual, I suppose."

Remus nodded. "But it's not the usual, I suspect."

Harry glanced over at the old werewolf. His hair was now mostly grey, and there were laugh lines and transformation scars on his skin, but his eyes crinkled with a vitality that Harry wished he could have kept himself. After everything, the tired look on Remus' face was waning, almost gone, and he obviously felt freer than he had in a long time.

Finally, Harry shrugged. "No, I suppose it's not. It's one complication or another."

"Yes, life is like that."

They were companionably silent the rest of the way to Celestine's, entering the quiet café and seating themselves at a cosy booth next to the fireplace. Celestine, bright-eyed as always, came over and took their coffee orders while they figured out what they wanted for breakfast. When Celestine came back with a tray laden with coffee, cream and sugar, they ordered their food, and waited until he walked away to continue their conversation.

"So, Harry, would you like to talk about these 'complications'?" Remus asked gently.

Harry bit his lip. "I…I don't know, Remus."

"It's okay. You don't have to. You just seem like you might need someone from the outside to talk to."

"Oh, I probably do," Harry said, sitting back. "I just don't know where to start, I guess."

"You could start from the beginning. I don't know much outside what the papers say, and I know half of all that is rubbish."

"For the most part, it is, yes." Harry took a sip of his coffee, and added more cream. "Well, I suppose it started with Draco."

"I had heard along the grapevine that you two had become friends."

Harry nodded. "Yes. It was a little strange at first, but we actually confided in each other quite quickly. It was easy, once I realised that he's a pompous ass and always will be," he said, smirking. "He's actually quite funny – when he's not insulting you."

"So you're friends with him now," Remus asked politely, as Celestine came by with their breakfast plates.

Harry nodded in thanks and continued. "Sort of. I mean, we were, and then, well… Mikhail kissed me."

"Mikhail – your boyfriend, right?"

"Yes. Well, he wasn't at the time, and I was just starting to think of guys…" Harry blushed. "This is so weird."

"It's okay. You don't have to talk about it."

"No, I want to, but I just don't know how to describe what happened." Harry took a deep breath. "I started liking Draco's girlfriend, Raven, but then I started to like Draco too, and that was really confusing, and then Mikhail kissed me. I didn't even know he was gay. Then I told Draco about it because I didn't know what to do, and next thing I know, I'm making out with Draco, and staying over in his room, and then I'm waking up to him telling me that it's not going to work, and that I should date someone else. Mikhail, in actual fact."

"So you're not friends anymore?"

"No – we are, I guess. It's just odd. He hurt me so badly, Remus," Harry said, poking at his focaccia. He realised that it was the same type of focaccia from when he and Draco had first eaten there, and wrinkled his nose. Looking up into Remus' serious face he said, "He hurt me a lot."

"I don't doubt that, Harry."

"I was so mad, at first, and then I saw Raven, and she told me that I should date Mikhail, like Draco said."

"Raven wasn't mad at you for sleeping with her boyfriend?" Remus asked, obviously puzzled.

Harry blanched. "We didn't sleep together. I mean, not really. And no…Raven and Draco sort of have this weird open relationship thing that I'm still a little unsure about. They both want to be with me, but… But they've got a weird way of showing me – they're still together, but they don't want me to be left out..." Harry shook his head, as if tossing the thoughts away. "So I asked Mikhail out two days later, because I wanted to…"

"Get back at Draco," Remus supplied.

"Yes," Harry admitted guiltily. "I wanted to make him jealous – to hurt him like he hurt me. But I actually sort of like Mikhail, and I never really wanted to hurt him, but I still like Draco, and things aren't going so well with Mikhail…"

Remus sensed Harry's hesitation, and asked, "Why do you think that is, Harry? Does he know about you and Draco?"

"No. I…well, I lied. I told him I hadn't been with any other guys. I know it was wrong, but I wasn't sure if he'd believe I wanted to date him, when I had just been with Draco. I mean…everything was so confusing, and I was mad, and hurt, and I thought maybe I could break up with him later, even though Ron and Hermione _told_ me the whole idea wasn't going to work…" Harry sighed. "And I keep sort of…freezing up when I'm…you know, _with_ Mikhail. Not to mention, Mikhail hates Draco, and Draco hates Mikhail. But Mikhail hates Draco because he thinks Draco might like me, because Draco can't keep his damn mouth shut, and he keeps taunting Mikhail about how he'll always be around and be friends with me, and Draco is jealous of Mikhail for the very reason I wanted him to be. And it's all just really stupid." Harry paused, then sighed. "I'm just not sure."

Remus looked at Harry, his eyes full of questions. "About what?"

"About anything!" he said jerkily, frustrated that he didn't quite know what he meant either. "I'm not sure what to do. Or what to think. Hell, I'm not even sure what to say."

"Eat your breakfast, Harry," Remus suggested gently. "It'll go cold."

Harry picked up his fork and knife and cut off a piece of the bread and toppings, putting it in his mouth and chewing mechanically. He waited for Remus to continue speaking, as he was probably going to do.

"Harry, I'll never lie to you, you know that. So, when I say that I understand how difficult this situation is, I'm not trying to be patronising. And, unfortunately, I can't tell you what to do, or even what the best solution would be. I can suggest possibilities, but I can't decide for you. That being said, this is, in my own old mind, what I think."

Harry swallowed some coffee to help the focaccia go down, looking up at Remus, waiting for him to continue. "You need to be honest. Not just with Mikhail, but with Draco and yourself. How do you honestly feel about Draco? How do you honestly feel about Mikhail? Because the longer you keep things from Mikhail, the more you really will hurt him, once he finds out. And, more than likely, he will find out, as things like this never stay a secret for long. Guilt might eat at you, and you'll tell him, or someone else will hear something, and next thing you know, it'll be all over the Daily Prophet. And Draco may give up, and you'll have lost him not only as a potential boyfriend, but, most likely as a friend. As for their feelings towards each other, that is their own, and there really isn't a whole lot you can do to change it. They'll probably always hate each other – just because they both care about you and feel that the other is a threat. That's just how it goes sometimes."

Harry sat still for a moment, thinking over this information. "And why do I need to be honest with myself?"

"Well, Harry, it's my guess that you're still not comfortable with your sexuality."

"My sexuality? What do you mean? That I'm forcing myself to like guys or something?"

"No, no, no. That's not what I meant. Harry, people don't just turn gay overnight. Not after twenty years of thinking they were straight. I know you didn't just adjust to that sort of thinking or those sorts of feelings as if you'd always felt that way. These things take time. It's okay to still be confused. If you're not ready for a serious relationship, that's perfectly fine. As I take it, you haven't really been involved with anybody, so don't feel, that just because you're older, that you have to do things or take things to a physical level that you're not ready for. That doesn't mean you have to be a complete prude, of course," Remus added lightly, giving the sullen-looking Harry a gentle smile.

Harry smirked, despite himself. "Well, I don't think I could deny myself anyhow," he said with a blush.

Remus laughed, then finished off his coffee and signalled Celestine for more. "You'll be fine, Harry. Just remember, you don't have to take all of my advice, or any of it, really. It's just an outside opinion of an old man who doesn't know all the facts."

Harry smiled. "You're not old, Remus."

"Tell that to my hair," he joked. "But seriously, Harry. Follow your heart. Don't make any rash decisions," he said pointedly, and Harry had the good grace to look sheepish, "and don't let others sway you one way or the other. The choices you make are your own."

Harry nodded. "I'm not going to do anything until I'm sure I can handle the consequences."

Remus nodded. "Alright then," he said with some finality to the conversation, before checking his pocket watch. "So when's this Quidditch game I came to see?"

* * *

The crowd gathered at the Siren's pitch was raucous and deafening, and Remus' sensitive ears couldn't handle much more of the noise. And the game hadn't even started yet.

The Sirens were playing the Manticores, a team from Moscow, swathed in dark reds and oranges. Both sides had huge support crowding the stands and the grass surrounding the pitch. Harry felt like he didn't recognise a single person he saw, until a pretty face popped up next to him.

"I had to fight through crazed fans to get over to you, Harry," Raven said, smiling coyly.

Harry gave her a one-armed hug. "I'm sorry. Were you brutal to the ones that wouldn't let you past, at least?"

She smirked. "I was brutal to everyone."

"Are we talking about senseless violence over here?" Harry heard Remus say from his left, and turned to introduce him to Raven.

"Remus, this is Raven Harrell. Raven, this is Remus Lupin, an old family friend."

"How do you do, Miss Harrell."

"Oh, please call me Raven. Calling me 'Miss' makes me think you're one of my professors," she said with a wrinkle in her nose.

Harry laughed, and Remus chuckled along with him. "Actually, he did teach."

"Oooh, that could be why then."

"Yes. I had a brief stint as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts one year."

"Really?" Raven asked. "Wait a minute… I remember you! You were there my first year! Why was it you left again…? I really liked you."

Remus looked to the ground for a second, and Harry darted his eyes around, making sure no one would hear him through all the noise. "Remus is a werewolf, Raven."

Raven's eyebrows rose, but she nodded seriously. "Okay. Don't worry. I won't squeal."

Remus shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I mean, the less people that know, the better, but quite a few already do. I've come to live with the reactions." He cocked his head at her. "I hear you're dating Draco Malfoy, the Seeker for the game?"

Raven blushed prettily. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Is he any good?" Remus asked.

"Very," Harry said immediately.

"As good as you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the question. "Almost."

They couldn't talk anymore as Quidditch players from both teams burst out onto the pitch, sending the crowd into more raucous and deafening screams. The colours of their robes complemented the scenery around them – red and orange and black – and Harry spotted Draco's bright blond head immediately, pointing him out to both Remus and Raven.

Raven clapped her hands in excitement, smiling wide as she watched Draco fly around the pitch to his position above all the players; waiting for the match to start. The crowd went nearly silent for just a moment, and then the Quaffle was in the air, and the quiet exploded in sound; noise-makers, screaming, chanting, and horns all filling up every nook and cranny, spreading out and around, so you could hear it for miles.

Harry's eyes followed Draco intently, only looking away for brief moments when either team scored a goal or to check on Ron or Mikhail. They were both doing well, considering the sting the Manticores were trying to put on them that day. And Draco was also holding his own. While not the best team in the Uni-League, the Manticores played a little dirty – reminding Harry somewhat of the Slytherins. Grinning to himself, Harry said to Remus and Raven, "I bet Draco's having a lot of fun out there."

"How can you tell?" Raven asked.

"The Manticores aren't the best team, but they are the toughest – meaning that they play a little dirty." Harry turned to Raven and winked. "In other words, they're a bit like the Slytherins were when we were in school. Draco would like that."

Raven smiled. "Yes, I think he would."

After a few more moments, the Snitch was spotted, just as one of the Siren Chasers was hit with a Bludger. Stuart fell to the ground, and medi-witches were on him immediately. The crowd booed and their attention was divided by the chase of the Snitch, and the injured player on the ground. Thankfully, the crowd of medi-witches parted, and Stuart took off into the air again, the Siren crowd cheering in his wake. Harry was impressed; most players couldn't get back up after being hit with a Bludger.

Suddenly, Draco and the other Seeker were flying right towards them, and then Draco was shoved hard, stopping with a sharp turn right in front of them and yelling some obscenity at the Manticore Seeker. Harry and Raven laughed, and for a split second, Harry saw Draco glance back at them, smiling, before taking off again, going back to serve the other Seeker with something just as dirty.

The match was fairly well played – while one team was brutal, the other was focused. There were more than a few free shots taken for fouls, putting the Sirens in the lead, and after that, it was all the Sirens could do to stay there and not find themselves completely wiped off the field by the Manticores.

Draco was hit pretty badly at one point by Orlov, the Manticore Seeker, and immediately hit back, a fight erupting in mid-air, causing the crowd to go into frenzy. The referee whistled to pause the game, flying over to stop the fight.

Over her _Sonorus_ charm, the crowd listened in, hearing, "Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Orlov! Stop that at once!"

"Did you see vat he did to me?!" Orlov shouted, pointing at Draco.

"Oh, like you didn't take a shot at me first!" Draco shot back.

"Mr. Malfoy, stop!" Draco glared at the woman with insolence. "Now, if I see you fighting one more time, it's the box for you!"

"But ref-"

"No – Mr. Malfoy, if I hear one more word out of you, you're out. Now back with the game, and keep it _clean_." She blew her whistle, and Draco and Orlov flew off, both with scowls on their faces, the game resuming.

The Manticores were up by ten when the Snitch was spotted for fifth time that game. Draco was on it, his corn silk hair blinding Harry as he zoomed by. He had the Snitch in his hand within twenty seconds, the roar of the spectators both simultaneously bright and gloomy. Draco did a lap around the pitch, holding up the gleaming Snitch in his hand.

"You haven't moved your eyes off him the whole game," Remus murmured in his ear.

Harry blinked, and turned to look at his old friend. "I…"

"That was brilliant!" Raven squealed, jumping up and down and clapping. "You go Draco! You show them who plays dirtier!" she yelled out into the pitch.

Harry chuckled, and watched as the rest of the Sirens crowded around Draco, before swooping down to the pitch. That signalled the spectators, and they all started to move out of the stands en mass. After a long, long queue, they were finally on the ground, and waiting for the players to exit the locker rooms. Hermione and the rest of the gang found them, all talking excitedly about the game. Soon after, the teams filtered out, people patting Stuart on the back at his quick recovery. He brushed it off as nothing, but Harry could see that he was favouring one shoulder a little.

Ron came out, and Hermione squealed, launching herself into his arms and kissing him, which resulted in a lot of blushing and catcalling. Draco came out next, and Raven's reaction resulted in much of the same, though Draco was much better at fighting off the embarrassment than Ron. Harry walked right up to him and gave him a pat on the arm, which Draco brushed off in lieu of giving him a full hug.

"That was brilliant, Draco," Harry said putting his arms around Draco too.

"I have you training me to thank for that, Harry."

Harry pulled back, feeling a little something in his chest. "Draco, I never taught you how to play dirty. That was all you."

Draco leaned forward. "Not to sound forward, Harry, but you're _plenty_ dirty on your own."

Harry blushed; realising Draco's hands were still on his hips. "Um. Oh! Draco, do you remember Remus Lupin?" he said, stepping back and gesturing to the man behind him. Remus stepped forward, holding out at hand.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Draco."

Draco's brow wrinkled for a moment before his eyes brightened. "Mr. Lupin. Yes, I remember you," he said, holding out his hand to shake.

"That was quite a game, Mr. Malfoy," Remus said, smiling. "The first game I've seen in a while and it was quite enjoyable to watch."

"Well, I'm glad you liked it," said Draco, before a loud shout and another body blocked Remus from his view.

"Harry!" Mikhail exclaimed, picking up the smaller man and twirling him around, giving him a big kiss. "Did you see that? Wasn't that _brutal_?"

Harry, still trying to recover from a very public kiss, just nodded. "Yeah," he breathed, coughing a bit and smiling. "It was really awesome, Mikhail." Mikhail hugged him again, kissing him on the cheek.

"I was thinking we could celebrate," Mikhail whispered in his ear, causing Harry to blush again.

"Er, Mikhail, I'd like you to meet someone."

Mikhail stood up straight, looking over to where Harry's body was turning.

"Mikhail, this is an old family friend, Remus Lupin."

"Lupin… Yes, I remember hearing about you from some of my younger friends at Hogwarts after I graduated." He reached forward and shook Remus' hand. "I didn't realise you were old friends with Harry."

"He was best friends with my father," Harry put in, hoping Mikhail would catch the significance.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mikhail. I read about you and your father in the Daily Prophet. Mikhail Chaikovsky, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry looked at Mikhail, and noticed his changed behaviour. Was it because he felt like he was meeting Harry's guardian or something?

"Remus is just in town for today. He came to watch the game. I had forgotten to tell him that Draco was playing," Harry said, looking at the blond standing tight lipped behind Mikhail.

Mikhail turned. "You did well, Draco. I didn't know you could play like that."

Draco smirked, but it wasn't necessarily pleasant. "I was a Slytherin, remember, Chaikovsky? The only thing we know is how to play dirty." He smiled at Lupin and shook his hand again. "It was good to see you, Mr. Lupin. Please, don't stay away too long. We must catch up some time."

"I would like that, Draco."

"Goodbye, Harry. Weasley, Granger. The Gryffindor Troupe." He nodded at everyone in turn. "Chaikovsky."

"Malfoy."

Draco waved one last time, as did Raven, before they walked away towards the campus. Mikhail turned back to Harry and Remus. "So what are you doing for dinner, Mr. Lupin?"

"I hadn't had anything planned, but I suppose it's up to Harry."

Harry looked startled for a moment. "Um, well, I was just thinking you could stay over at our place for dinner," he said to Remus. "The girls always make something good, especially after a match."

"That sounds lovely, Harry. I'd love to stay."

"You could come too, Mikhail, if you wanted," Harry offered.

Mikhail glanced around, obviously feeling a little out of place. "Oh, I think it'll be too crowded. Don't worry about me. I just wanted to get to know Mr. Lupin here a bit better." He nodded at Remus, who smiled back.

"There is room, Mikhail," Hermione said.

Mikhail held up a hand. "No, no. I'll be fine, truly. I don't want to interrupt a family affair."

"But it's not-" Harry started.

Mikhail kissed him on the forehead. "Really, Harry. I'll just have to catch up with you all the next time Mr. Lupin's in town."

"You can call him 'Remus', you know."

"Formalities insist that I shall be proper in addressing him, until he tells me otherwise."

"Either or is fine, Mikhail."

"Than I shall call you 'Mr. Lupin', until I feel it's appropriate to be more informal."

Harry felt like he was missing something, looking at Hermione for a clue. She also looked a bit puzzled, but signalled that she'd talk to him later.

"Alright then," said Remus, shaking Mikhail's hand. "I'll see you at another time."

"Yes. I'd like that. Goodnight everyone." He turned to Harry. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Harry smiled shyly. "Okay."

"Goodnight," Mikhail murmured, with another hug and kiss on the cheek.

"G'night."

Harry watched as Mikhail left, turning once to wave goodbye to everyone, before disappearing into the forest.

Harry looked around to see that most of the spectators had left, so he felt confident in saying a bit loudly, "What the hell just happened?"

Remus chuckled, pulling Harry over with an arm around his shoulders as they all started walking back to the dorms. "I think, Harry, that Mikhail is regarding me as your legal guardian, and therefore, feels that he must be formal in addressing me…as if he were courting for your hand. It's something that was lost in the Muggle World as customary over fifty years ago."

"But you're not, and he's not…"

"It makes sense, Harry," Hermione put in. "Mikhail is your boyfriend, and a pureblood wizard. There's no reason why, if he did want to seek approval from your 'family', that he wouldn't go through the motions, even if the result couldn't be marriage. He's just trying to do the proper thing, from his point of view, and seeing as he's the older, not to mention more experienced, I think that's why it didn't seem odd that you didn't act the same way around his father, when you met him. And I think that he did well, considering he wasn't expecting Remus' arrival."

Remus nodded. "You are correct, Hermione, as usual. Still the brightest in the class, I take it?"

Hermione blushed. "Well…I _am_ graduating a whole term early."

"You could have graduated nearly a year ago, Hermione, and you know it," Ron said.

"That's not true, Ronald. I still had more classes to finish."

"Yes," Ginny said, "But you already had the knowledge; you've just been going through the motions."

"You guys know just as much as me, and I've learned a lot of things!"

"Just take the bloody compliment, Hermione," said Harry, effectively ending the conversation.

While Hermione pouted, Ron consoled her, and the rest of the group laughed, they moved onto other topics of conversation, like what was going to be for dinner.

Luna suggested asking the forest faery hiding behind her ear, until realising that having leaf soup was not going to be very enjoyable.

* * *

Dinner had been an almost raucous affair, all the young adults regaling their years at Hogwarts, while sharing stories with Remus about his teaching experience, and what it had been like after he'd left.

"Oh, god, do you remember _Umbridge_?" Harry said, grimacing.

"That utter cow!" Ginny exclaimed. "I can't believe what she made you do to your hand!"

"What'd she do? I don't think I ever heard that story," Remus asked.

"She used this _horrible_ quill that carved into the back of Harry's hand, whatever he was writing," Hermione said, getting splotchy cheeks with the memory of finding out just what Harry had been doing in his detentions with her.

"Excuse me?" Remus asked, his eyes going a little dark – a rich gold colour.

"I'm fine, Remus, really. There was just no authority to stop her. She practically had the whole school under her control. She was the one who got Dumbledore sacked for part of the year."

Remus nodded, relaxing, but the colour of his eyes not changing. "I remember."

"Anyhow, enough of that unpleasant bitch," Ron said, ignoring Hermione's quick glare. "What's for dessert?"

* * *

"I've missed you, Remus," Harry said, leaning against him on the couch.

"I've missed you too, Harry."

"You'll try to visit more often?"

"I'll try. Though it might do you to visit _me_ every once and while, eh?" Remus suggested with a little nudge.

"I'm sorry. I should, you're right. Things have just been…complicated."

"I understand, Harry. I don't have to leave for a while, if you want to talk about it some more…"

"I…well, I dunno. Mikhail's behaviour around you really confused me today, and it seemed like Draco and Mikhail were almost trying to be more formal to you than the other. Does that mean Draco's trying to 'court' me too?"

"Not necessarily, Harry. I really think it's no more than surface formalities. Though, I wouldn't be surprised, if Mikhail and Draco might take it a bit more seriously." Harry sighed, and Remus continued with, "Unfortunately, there isn't much you can do about it, other than telling them that you're not to be courted, and that I'm not officially your family, so there are no formalities to be had."

"I know they won't listen to me, Remus. I just want them to ignore each other, because I know they won't stop hating each other."

"Have you told them that?"

"Yes. And they've agreed to be…polite."

"They seemed to be polite earlier today. Maybe a forced politeness, but they could have been at each other's throats."

Harry got a sudden vision of two werewolves going at it, trying to rip the other to shreds. He shivered. "I guess there's nothing I can do. I'll just have to take your advice, and think about what I really want. And…be honest with Mikhail. Eventually."

Remus smiled, running a hand through Harry's hair, as the younger man leaned more heavily into him. "That's all you can do, Harry. Do what you feel is right."

"Thank you, Remus."

"It's my pleasure to help you, Harry. We're family; whatever you need is my pleasure."

They sat like that for a long while, staring at the fire in the hearth, finding companionship in each other's quiet company.

* * *

**A/N: **_Hi, it's me again. Well, I just wanted to say thank you SO MUCH for all the support over these last few years. Your kind words and prodding have kept me going...given me a purpose to keep writing. It means a lot to me that you guys care so much about these characters - as they are in this little 'verse - and that you continue to support me, even when i don't update for months. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. If this sounds a little like a farewell, then please don't think that, it is _not _I just feel very grateful to have you in my life, even if just for a moment or two after I post, and that I wish I could know all of you personally, and the ones that I do know, you've become very important to me, and I cherish your friendship. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and will enjoy the next two as well. - Aki_


	28. Interlude II: The True Meaning

**_Chapter Notes: _**_This is just a short interlude...giving us some important clues for later chapters. /winkwink/ _

_Again, as always, a GREAT BIG THANK YOU to **IcyAurora8**, **Michelle **and **Omi**, my betas. They deserve some type of beta-award for putting up with me. lol And maybe to Omi specifically, who I torture incessantly with hints and questions about the chapters, since she's online all the time._

_And I dedicate this little, but significant chapter to Gardenia. My best friend. One day, love, you may read this dedication, and we will finally get our own collaboration HP fic off the ground. :)  
_

_Enjoy... Interlude II - The True Meaning._**  
**

* * *

**Interlude II – The True Meaning**

* * *

After sleeping on his troubling thoughts about Mikhail and Draco, Harry woke up feeling disconcerted and not at all sure what to do about it. His skin was prickling and he felt an uncomfortable weight around his neck. 

Reaching up, his fingers brushed the sharp edges of the obsidian that made up the chain, following it down until they touched the cool jade; etched with a carving he still did not understand.

Going through his morning routine, he resolved to find the meaning behind the symbol. It was not something that he would have normally cared about, but something was compelling him to find the answer; perhaps the same thing that made the amulet glow around certain people and not others.

He knew he wasn't going to find it in the school library – he had looked for weeks now, and still hadn't found what he was looking for. So, he'd go into London, back to that bookstore, and see if he couldn't find something there. Or, directions to the nearest public library.

He stepped outside, yelling "I'll be back!" over his shoulder, squinting at the bright but overcast sky. Walking to the centre of the courtyard, he Apparated, arriving in the Apparition point for Diagon Alley.

Getting a few odd looks for his complete lack of anything wizard on his person, and perhaps a few more for the recognition of the scar on his forehead, Harry walked down the twisty cobblestone street, admiring the broom in the front window of Quality Quidditch Supplies from afar, and delighting in the smells coming from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He ducked through The Leaky Cauldron and out onto Charing Cross Road, taking a left and walking the few blocks to the little bookstore he and Raven had gone to several weeks prior.

Once inside, he browsed the sections for what he was looking for. He stopped in the "Historical" section, finding a few titles on ancient Chinese history, but nothing on symbolism. Going over to the "Art" section, he found a few books that were a little closer, but nothing that contained the symbol he was looking for. He looked briefly in the "Language" section, but there were so many books on learning Chinese and how to read it, that he was rather confused, still not finding something that triggered what he was looking for. There were several books on learning to read and write Chinese that had a few pieces of the Chinese alphabet that looked somewhat similar to his symbol, but not close enough…

Deciding he needed to eat something, supposing it was a lack of food that was throwing off his concentration, Harry left the little shop, thinking he should find a library. Walking down the street, he saw a young woman dressed in not much more than a tee-shirt and a vest, with bright pink hair. He almost thought it was Tonks for a moment, before he spotted the tattoo on her upper arm.

"Excuse me! Excuse me, miss?" Harry called as he approached her and her friends.

She turned to him, and Harry noticed that she had a lip piercing and bright green eyes. "Yeah?" she asked, looking him up and down.

Glancing down to make sure there was nothing wrong with his denim jacket, jeans, and trainers, he said as he looked back up, "Oh, um…I couldn't help but notice your tattoo…"

"What about it?"

"Um, well, what does that symbol mean?"

"Symbol?"

"Er…yeah. Er, see, I've got this necklace someone gave me, and I've been trying to find out what it means." He pulled out the amulet from under his shirt and showed her. "The person who gave it to me doesn't know."

"Oh," the girl said, glancing back at her friends, who looked just as puzzled by this stranger as she did. "Well, it means 'love'."

"Love?" Harry said, feeling his throat tighten.

"Yeah. It's the Kanji for 'love' in Japanese."

"Japanese? It's not Chinese?"

"Well, it's the same in Chinese, now isn't it?" She smiled. "Japan and China share some of the same written characters."

"Oh. I…didn't know that," Harry said, looking down at his amulet.

"Yeah. But that one means the same in both languages."

"Oh. I see. Well, thank you so much."

She nodded. "Glad I could help." She started to walk away.

"Wait, what's your name?"

She turned back and raised an eyebrow. "Gardenia."

"Well, thank you, Gardenia. Really."

She cocked her head at him. "No problem, stranger."

"Harry."

"Well, no problem Harry. Have a good day."

"You too."

After watching Gardenia and her friends walk away, Harry dashed back over to the bookshop, sliding to a stop in front of the "language" section again. He grabbed the first Chinese-English dictionary he found, and flipped to the "love" entry.

Gardenia was right. It was the same symbol…or character, or whatever it was called.

_Ai_. Love.

Harry set that dictionary down and looked in a Japanese-English one, finding the same information.

_Ai_. Love.

Wow.

Luna had been right. All he had to do was look in a dictionary.

Leaving the bookstore, Harry walked back to Diagon Alley, his hands deep in his pockets and his gaze on the pavement in front of his feet.

_So what did it mean…?_ That the character in the amulet meant "love", and it glowed around certain people and not others…. Did it mean that he loved them but not the other people…?

As soon as he arrived back at the dorm, he ran upstairs, grabbing a piece of parchment and scribbling a list of names on it.

_Seamus_

_Ginny_

_Ron_

_Hermione_

_Draco_

_Raven_

_Mikhail_

_Kevin_

_Owen_

_Dennis_

_Luna_

_Neville_

Okay…so now he just needed to find out who the amulet glowed around, and who it didn't. He already knew a few, so he marked their names.

_Draco – N_

_Raven - Y_

Harry decided that he was going to go to everyone on his list to see if it glowed. Maybe it _was_ gender-specific like Draco said, or maybe it had something to do with this "love" thing.

Walking down stairs, he ran into Ron, who was coming up to look for him.

"Hey Harry, I was just coming to get you. Would you like some lunch?"

"Not right now, Ron. Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Sure, mate."

Feeling really nervous, Harry reached up and unclasped the necklace, holding it in shaking hands. "Could you…" he cleared his throat, "could you put your hand near this so I can see what happens?"

Ron looked perplexed. "Er…why? Is it supposed to do something?"

"I dunno. I…I'm experimenting."

"Is it going to do something bad? To me?"

"No. No, I don't think so. But just put your hand near it. Don't touch it."

"Okay…" Ron reached out, and as he got nearer, the amulet started to glow, growing brighter the closer Ron's hand got. He snatched it back, and the glow subsided. "Was it supposed to do that?"

Harry shrugged. "It's done it around Raven, as far as I know. But not around Draco. So it's not gender-specific, then."

"Do you think there's something weird with what Ginny gave you?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure," he said, quickly re-clasping it. "I'm going through a list of people… I found out what the symbol, I mean, Kanji, means, though."

"What does it mean?" Ron asked as they moved into the dining area, where most of everyone was seated, munching on sandwiches and crisps.

"Love, not luck, like Ginny thought."

"Oh. So what do you think about that, then?"

"What does he think about what?" Hermione asked, looking up from her newspaper.

"The necklace Ginny gave him. It glows around random people, and the symbol or whatever on it means 'love', apparently," Ron said, already picking up his own monstrous sandwich and biting into it.

"_What_, Harry?" Hermione said, looking stunned.

"Is there something wrong with the necklace I gave you, Harry?" Ginny asked, looking worried.

Harry shrugged, reaching around the table to put his own sandwich together, deciding he was hungry after all. "About a month ago, Draco and Raven wanted to look at it, but I didn't want to take it off, so they had to get close to look at it. When Raven did, she said she saw it glow and flash at her, but nothing happened when Draco got near it. I just tried it near Ron, and it glowed again, so I know it's not just a gender thing, like Draco had suggested."

"Harry…why didn't you tell me about his sooner?" Hermione sighed, putting a hand on her forehead.

"I didn't really care, until now. I just sorta woke up this morning, knowing that I had to find out what the symbol meant."

"And what does it mean again?"

"Love."

Hermione frowned. "Do you think it maybe glows around people you love?"

"Well, I dunno. It glowed around Ron, didn't it? And I love him. You know, as a friend," he said, with a look at Ron.

Ron nodded and smiled, his cheeks stuffed with food like a hamster. "Right back at'cha, mate."

"But I don't love Raven, I don't think. I mean, I care about her a lot, as a friend. But I don't know if I _love_ her, love her. But I made a list. A list of people to try it on," he said, finished making his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Who's on the list, Harry?" asked Seamus.

"Everybody here, and Owen, Mikhail, Draco, Raven, Luna and Neville."

"So you want to try it on all of us?" Seamus asked, and Harry nodded. "Well, might as well get it over with, then," the Irishman said, standing from his place and walking over to Harry. Harry jerked back when Seamus got too close. "So what do you want me to do then?" Seamus asked, frowning.

Harry set down his food and stood. "Er…just put your hand near it, but don't touch it," he said quickly, feeling nervous and defensive again. _Merlin, maybe Draco was right. It was odd to be so possessive… _"Tell me if the amulet glows or flashes or anything."

Everyone around the table stopped eating, watching with baited breath as Seamus' hand came up, and watched as the amulet did absolutely nothing. When Seamus dropped his hand, they all seemed to sag in relief, as if they thought it was going to put a curse on the tow-headed young man or something.

"Here, let me try," Ginny said, standing.

"Nothing, Seamus?" Harry asked.

Seamus shook his head. "Nope. Nothin', mate. I guess you don't love me, then," he pouted, grinning at Harry's roll of eyes.

"I'm not sure that's why it's not doing anything, Seamus," Harry explained. "Besides, I do love you. All of you. As friends."

Ginny stepped up as Seamus sat down, but when her hand got close, nothing happened. She frowned a little, but sat down with a shake of her head.

Dennis and Kevin leaped up next, almost tripping over each other to get to Harry, both hoping to garner a reaction. Again, nothing. Looking sullen, they both told Harry 'no', and sat down again.

Hermione was the last one at the table, and she stood slowly, frowning the whole time. "I don't like this, Harry," she said.

"I knew you wouldn't," he answered.

She reached up her hand, and a noise of some kind stuck in her throat when the amulet started glowing, and she pulled her hand back to her chest, holding it to her with her other hand.

"It glowed, didn't it?" Harry asked, picking it up so he could see it.

Hermione nodded. "Harry, I think you should take it off."

Harry dropped the amulet. "I don't want to."

"But Harry, it could be dangerous…it could be controlling you!"

"Hermione, I feel perfectly normal. I just don't want to take it off. I haven't noticed anything different about the way I feel, or the way I think."

"But if you don't want to take it off… Harry, it could be compelling you to keep it on, and you wouldn't even know it!"

"Look, Hermione, I've already had this conversation with Draco. Just leave it alone, okay? Besides, I took it off when Ron was trying it. I just want to know why it glows around some people and not others, alright? Could you help me with that?"

Hermione's mouth became a thin line. "Yes. Yes, fine. I can do that. But Harry…if I think that that thing is causing a serious threat to your health – mental _or_ physical, I _will_ _Stupefy_ you and take it off, do you understand?"

Harry glared. "Fine. But I can't be responsible if you actually touching it does something to you, okay?"

"I'll take my chances."

"Alright." Harry sat back down and pulled out his list, adding the appropriate marks next to each name.

_Seamus - N_

_Ginny - N_

_Ron - Y_

_Hermione - Y_

_Draco - N_

_Raven - Y_

_Mikhail_

_Kevin - N_

_Owen_

_Dennis - N_

_Luna_

_Neville_

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Ginny said, looking sullen.

"Sorry about what, Gin? Don't worry about it, I'm fine."

"But I got it for you…"

"Ginny, seriously, don't feel bad about it. How would you have known?"

Ginny still seemed upset, but dropped it, going back to her lunch, and picked at her crisps.

Hermione leaned over Harry's shoulder, looking down at his list. "I think you should make a comparison list once you've had everyone try it, Harry. To see what the people who it does glow around have in common."

Harry nodded. "Alright. I guess I'll figure this all out later. Owen's not home and neither are Neville and Luna. Where are they, by the way?"

"Oh, they went to Neville's grandmother's for the day," Hermione said as she sat back down.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Took him long enough," he muttered.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Oh, I'm just assuming they're over there to tell Neville's grandmother that he asked Luna to marry him," he said nonchalantly, eating his food, waiting for the reaction.

"What?" Hermione said, dropping her sandwich.

"_Really_?" Ginny squealed.

Harry grinned, nodding. "Yep. Luna told me about a month ago. She said they hadn't told anyone because Neville wanted to tell his grandmum. Took him long enough, in my opinion."

Ron frowned. "I don't know…you know Neville's grandmum…I don't know if I'd want to tell her I was getting married, either." Everyone laughed.

* * *

By the end of the day, Harry's list was almost finished, but he was no closer to understanding what the reactions meant. 

_Seamus - N_

_Ginny - N_

_Ron - Y_

_Hermione - Y_

_Draco - N_

_Raven - Y_

_Mikhail_

_Kevin - N_

_Owen - N_

_Dennis - N_

_Luna - N_

_Neville - N_

The only person left was Mikhail, who he'd see tomorrow, so he'd ask him then. He wondered if he should make his list bigger…include people he knew, and liked, and people he didn't really care about either way. So he jotted down a few more names.

_Celestine_

_Zabini_

_Nott_

_Danny_

_Stuart_

_Jesse_

_Meghan_

Luna and Neville had broken the news, and everyone pretended to act surprised for their sake, then proceeded to ask them questions about how it went with Neville's grandmother.

"Well, it went pretty well, I think," Neville said, darting his eyes around.

"Aw, you can be honest with us, Nev," Seamus said. "She ripped you a new one, didn't she?"

Neville shook his head. "No…nothing like that. She mainly snapped at me because I wouldn't spit it out." There were chuckles at that. "She was stunned when I finally told her, then looked at Luna for a while, and asked us about all the arrangements. I told her we hadn't gotten that far yet, and that's when things started to go downhill. She started making plans right there!"

"Tough luck getting her to back off, mate," Ron had said. "It's near impossible to stop your mum from wanting to control your entire life, even when you're twenty-three. Or, your grandmum, in your case."

"Don't I know it," Neville said.

"Don't worry," said Luna. "I'll take care of your grandmother, Neville. I've actually already started making plans."

"Really?" Neville sighed, looking relieved. "See? This is why I'm marrying you."

"No, you're marrying me because I know more about exotic plants and wood faeries from the Camdanien area of Gloucester than you."

Everyone shot each other confused looks, including Neville. Then he smiled and kissed her on her cheek. "Yes. That's exactly why."

* * *

**A/N: **_Well, I hope repeating that list wasn't too much...I just felt like it might be good to see how everyone affected the amulet, and I know sometimes, if things like that aren't repeated at least once more, that you feel like you have to scroll back up to double check how it's going. At least it's that way for me. But I did try to cut it down some. :) I hope you liked this little bit of information...I look forward to your hypotheses on what the amulet TRULY means. Until next time - Aki _


	29. Meeting the Parents

**_Chapter Notes: _**_Well, this chapter is...hm. Well, it's a chapter. lol The first bit's a little rough (or annoying, depending on your feelings about the characters), and the middle bit's a little awkward, and the last bit's... well, in my head, the concept was funny, and then I started writing it, and it became a bit more serious. perhaps it's a bit of both. I don't think what happens is particularly hilarious, necessarily, but maybe the situation the characters find themselves is a bit funny. Gah, I need to stop giving thing away._

_Kudos to my betas, **IcyAurora8**, **Michelle**, and **Omi**, as always._

_I hope you enjoy this chapter, as weird as it is._**  
**

* * *

**Chapter XXVII - Meeting the Parents**

* * *

It had been a month, and Harry's list was really not getting him anywhere, even when he started comparing the people the amulet glowed around…there wasn't anything he could think of that would connect the people so strongly to garner the reaction. The only other person on his list that the amulet glowed around was Mikhail. 

Mikhail had not reacted that well to the amulet. He mentioned that he had thought he had seen it glow once, but didn't like Harry's explanation of the meaning of the Kanji, and who else it glowed around.

"So…does that mean that you love me, or what?" Mikhail had asked, sitting on Harry's bed.

"I don't know, Mikhail," Harry said. "I don't know what it means, or what the connection is. That's why I'm asking everyone I know, to see what happens."

"Does it glow around Malfoy?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Does it glow around Malfoy?" Mikhail asked insistently.

"No. It doesn't. But it doesn't glow around a lot of people that I love, Mikhail. I don't think that's the issue, here."

"So, you think that it glows around people you don't love, then?"

"Mikhail, it glows around my two best friends…what do you think?" Harry turned away, frustrated. "Why are you being such a jerk?"

Mikhail sighed, standing up. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Harry. I have been a jerk, lately, haven't I?" Harry didn't answer, so Mikhail stepped forward, standing in front of Harry, and continuing with, "Harry, look at me. Please."

Harry looked up. "What?" he asked quietly, but tersely.

Mikhail touched the side of Harry's face, tracing his cheek bones. "Harry, I…I know can be jealous sometimes. I… When I care about someone a lot, I get this way. I'm sorry if that bothers you."

"Mikhail, I-"

"No, Harry I need to say this. I love you. I know I do. And I wish you could be happy, with me."

Harry's eyes started to tear. "Mikhail…I just don't know if I'm ready for that serious… For that serious of a relationship. I mean…you're my first…you know, anything."

"Are you saying you want to break up with me?"

Harry shook his head, blinking the tears from his eyes. "No, I'm not. I'm just…I don't know how to react when you say things like that. I don't know if I feel the same way, and I feel weird that I can't say anything back. I mean, how can you know that you love me?"

"Because I love the way you smile. The way your face lights up when you see your friends or you ride your broom. Even that little furrow in your brow when you're concentrating really hard. I love how you care about everyone before yourself. And you're beautiful. To me."

"But that's not really knowing me, Mikhail. You don't know everything about me."

Mikhail let out a little breath. "That's because you won't let me in, Harry."

"That's not true. I just-" He huffed, starting over. "We never talk about stuff like that. We never talk about what my friends know about."

"I never ask because I don't want to pry, and I thought, given time, you would open up to me yourself."

Harry shook his head. "I just never want to talk about it. Not anymore."

Mikhail nodded, kissing Harry's forehead. "I know. I know. I understand. But I love you, and don't think for one second that because I don't know everything about you that I can't. That I act this way because I'm trying to be an asshole. I'm just…"

"Possessive?" Harry joked.

Mikhail actually grimaced. "No. I guess I get jealous easily. I know this. And to be honest, I've felt threatened almost this whole time."

"By who?" Harry asked, thinking he knew the answer.

"Malfoy. And before you say anything, I know he has a girlfriend, and I know you two are just friends. It's just…off, to me, somehow. I don't know exactly why. I guess that's why I'm always so on edge."

Harry sighed, backing away and sitting down. "There's nothing I can do about that, Mikhail. I'm not going to stop being Draco's friend."

"I'm not expecting you to, Harry. Truly. I guess, maybe, that I'm just looking for some reassurance about our relationship. I don't want to lose you."

"Mikhail…you know I'm new to this sort of stuff. I don't even know what's going on in my own head, half the time. But I don't want to break up with you. I like you. A lot. That's the only reassurance I can give you right now."

Mikhail kneeled in front of Harry, placing his hands on Harry's knees. "Then that's all I'll ask for." He leaned forward, kissing Harry softly. Pulling away he said, "Is Hermione, that brilliant friend of yours, helping you figure this amulet out?" he asked, reaching up to touch it.

Harry jerked away. "Don't touch it! And yes, she is. We're trying to find similarities between the people it glows around. It's not easy though. It could be related to anything. Blood, feelings, eye colour, I don't know."

Mikhail sighed. "Well, you'll keep me updated, right?"

"Yeah," said Harry, tucking the amulet under his shirt.

That had been a tough day. Harry hadn't liked fighting with Mikhail. And he felt even worse when Mikhail told him he loved him.

How was he supposed to deal with that?

Then, about a week ago, Harry found a random passage about Oriental Magic. It stated that most old forms of Eastern Magic were designed to create the opposite or unexpected effect than what one would normally think; that by creating the opposite effect; it forces the caster/castee to divine the proper results themselves, so that its effect is more powerful.

Harry had spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what that had meant, exactly. He knew now that it meant love, but what was opposite about the way it was working? After all, he cared about everyone it glowed around, and obviously he loved some of them… but he also clearly loved people who didn't make the amulet glow… so what was the point? Maybe it didn't have to do with how he felt about them, but how they felt about him? But that didn't really make sense either… Honestly, he was drawing a blank, no matter how hard he puzzled over it, which was why he finally decided that he needed to talk to Hermione... after all, he didn't know anyone else who was better at solving those kinds of magical mysteries.

Term finals had begun, and with that, a pandemonium of studying and lack of sleeping or eating, and probably a little bit of snapping at each other, though they all knew they didn't mean it.

Harry and Draco finished up the Potion Ingredient Chart, which helped Harry immensely in his study. Draco holed himself up in his room with his books and parchment, and Raven spent more time in the art wing.

Hermione got on Ron's case, and Neville tried his best to politely ignore Luna's strange advice, while Luna hummed softly to herself as she studied her notes. Seamus and Ginny had a row or two, about not paying enough attention to one another, but always made up, which resulted in more long, sleepless study nights for the both of them.

Blaise shrugged it off nonchalantly, and Daphne, in her spare time, tried to puzzle out her secret admirer. Dennis and Kevin tried to keep the energy high with some jokes, but only got glares, and retreated into their own studying habits, whatever those might be. And Celestine tried to force Owen to stay at home and study, but the young man only insisted that he was doing fine, and that he needed the money as much as he needed the time to study.

Which was actually, what found everyone in their current state of either panic, confusion, defensiveness, or anger.

It all started the day before, however, with the arrival of Blaise's mum.

Arabella Zabini was beautiful, and she knew it. Everyone knew it. It was sort of hard to forget, when with just a look, she had men calling after her. It was as if she were a dark-haired, olive-skinned Veela.

She loved wearing robes of red, and even though an old-fashioned pure-blood witch, she found herself acquiring a few salsa red dresses of Muggle origin. It only made the adoration worse.

The problem was, of course, that everyone _knew_ her widowing history, so as the years had passed, though many men, young and old, doted upon her, none would go so-far as to actually marry her. They were all quite content staying alive, and, most likely, wealthy.

This was why Draco dreaded seeing her. He was young, handsome, and wealthy. Her three criteria.

So when there came a knock at the door on the morning of Monday, December 15th, Draco did his best to hide in his room. But Arabella would not be swayed. She refused to leave to her room at the local inn until Draco came down to say hello.

Groaning, hoping he was audible to the woman downstairs, he followed Blaise down, taking heavy steps. Once he was in sight, Arabella said, with her usual thick sultry voice,

"Draco Malfoy. I hear you don't want to see me?"

He mustered a smile. "It's not that, Mrs. Zabini. I am merely very busy at the moment." He reached the bottom stair, and took her hand without prompt, kissing the smooth skin. "You haven't aged a day," he said, thinking that he actually saw some laugh lines around her eyes. Should he tell her?

"Why, Mr. Malfoy…are you flirting with me?"

"Mum…leave Draco alone. Not every man wants to get into your robes."

"Blaise, I'll not have you speak to me that way. I am your mother."

"More like a who-" Draco clapped a hand over his friend's mouth, quite certain that he didn't want to finish his sentence, lest he find himself at the unforgiving end of his own mother's wand.

Draco removed his hand at Blaise's glare. "Draco, I don't think I'm going to speak to you anymore."

"Pish-posh, darling," his mother said. "Draco's your best friend. You'll always need him around," She said none too suggestively. "You'll join me for meal or two while I'm here, Draco?"

"Er…well, I'll see. I'm really very busy, and I'll be going home in a few days…after finals this week. In fact, I'd better go back upstairs and study."

Arabella pouted her red lips. "Oh, okay. I suppose a man _does_ need his education now-a-days." She kissed Draco on the cheek and let Blaise lead her back to the inn.

Draco sighed in relief. At least that was over, and he managed to escape with no more than a bit of colour on his cheek. He ran upstairs and grabbed a wash cloth, scrubbing the red stain off his skin vigorously.

* * *

That Friday, Draco had the more nerve-wracking task of meeting Raven's parents…for, really, the first time. He had seen them once or twice over the years, with no more than a short greeting at memorials. This had more to do with Raven's lack of communication with them, than any real dislike they had for him or vice versa. Draco couldn't say he knew them at all well enough to make any kind of judgement. 

He was to meet them in a half-hour at a small but classy French Wizard restaurant in Manchester called Le Pichet. Draco Apparated there early, securing a table for four. Ten minutes later, he saw an older couple walk in; a tall, slender, raven-haired girl behind them. The man was greying at the temples, tall and slim, with a straight nose and a serious set of glasses on the bridge. The woman was also tall and slim, but definitely womanly in form. Her hair was tightly curled, falling in ringlets down her back. Raven was nearly a spitting image of her mother.

Draco stood, smoothing down his robes, stepping out from behind the table to greet Raven's mother and father. Raven saw Draco first, however, and stepped quickly past her parents to launch herself into Draco's arms, pushing him back a few steps in his surprise.

"Draco! Oh, I'm so glad to see you," she whispered in his ear.

"I, er… I'm glad to see you, too, sweetie," he said, hugging her back briefly.

"I think what my daughter means to say is that she's sick of us already, and we've only been here for barely an hour," Mrs. Harrell said, standing next to her husband, with her arm looped in his.

Raven stepped back from Draco. "Why, mother, what would ever give you that idea?" Her tone was a perfect measure of sugar and sarcasm.

"Don't talk to your mother that way, young lady," Mr. Harrell admonished. He took a step forward, holding out his hand. "Pleasure to finally meet you properly, Draco," Mr. Harrell said with a calculating smile.

"And the same to you, Mr. Harrell," Draco said with a firm shake and a short bow of his head. Draco moved over to take the hand that Mrs. Harrell was holding out. "And Mrs. Harrell. You look lovely today." He bowed lower, kissing her knuckles and giving her hand a soft squeeze before releasing it.

Mrs. Harrell dipped her own head. "Why thank you, Draco."

"Shall we sit?" Draco asked, gesturing to the table behind him. "I hope the table is satisfactory."

Mr. Harrell waved Draco's comment away. "It's perfectly fine, son. We're not that stuffy."

They all sat down, Raven staring mostly at the table, and remaining awfully quiet. When Draco asked her if something was wrong, her mother said, "Oh, don't worry about her, Draco, dear. She just doesn't want us here."

"Mum, that's not true," Raven said, lifting her head. "I just wish you didn't have to make such a big deal about meeting Draco."

"Well, I think it's high time we should meet the boy," Mr. Harrell said, picking up his menu. "You two have been together for how long now? And we've never properly met."

"We only started dating in September, Dad," said Raven, picking up her own menu.

"But you've been dancing around each other long before that," her mother replied, setting her napkin across her lap, a note of finality to her voice.

"So, Draco, what do you plan to do after you graduate?" Mr. Harrell asked, looking over his menu at the blond.

Draco looked up from his own menu and said, "Well, I'm looking into apprenticing with my mentor, Severus Snape. However, I don't want to teach potions. I'd rather make them."

"So you plan to become the local Apothecary, then?"

"Dad!" Raven admonished.

"I'm simply curious, Raven. No need to think I'm needling the boy."

"I actually want to work on making healing potions more suitable for the human palate, sir," Draco said, to answer the question. "I am quite good at making healing potions."

"Well, that is a noble ambition," Raven's father said, and Draco smirked when Raven glared.

"Raven, _relax_," he said, patting her tense hand.

"How can I? They're acting as though they have to approve of you or something. I'm twenty-one years old; I can choose who I love and who I want to marry for myself!"

"Yet you still act like a child," her mother sighed, setting down her menu and waving a waiter over. "I think we're ready to order now."

"Are you intending to marry my daughter?" Mr. Harrell asked, looking very seriously at Draco.

"We've talked about it, sir, but wanted to wait until we had both graduated until making a firm decision," Draco fibbed smoothly.

"Well, do you love each other or not? That should be the only question you need to ask yourselves," Raven's mother said, before turning to the waiter. "I'll have the _Assiette de jambon cru_."

"I'll have the _Pâté albigeois_," Mr. Harrell followed.

"I'm not hungry," Raven said.

"Could you excuse us, please?" Draco said to Raven's parents, taking Raven's arm and leading her to the back of the restaurant.

"Perhaps I can come back later…" Draco heard the waiter say.

Raven glared once they were far enough away. "Draco-"

"Relax, I'm on your side."

Raven sighed, folding her arms over her chest. "I just don't know how to act around them, Draco. I'm always feeling like they're still judging me…scrutinizing every last thing, like I'm still a Death Eater."

"Sh, sh, shh," Draco said, rubbing her arms. "It's okay. Look, I'm fine, you're fine. They're just curious, and you know I can hold my own, okay? And honestly, I don't really care what they think. I obviously have a problem with authority."

Raven smiled. "Yeah, we both do."

"Which will probably make us terrible parents."

"Probably," Raven smirked.

"Come on, let's go back."

Lunch had actually gone fairly well after that. Draco engaged Raven's parents in their own lives, steering the conversation off of Raven when possible. Then the Harrell family left, taking Raven with them, leaving Draco with kisses and promises to see him soon. Mr. Harrell shook his hand and told him he was looking forward to seeing him for Christmas.

"I look forward to seeing your home, Mr. Harrell." Draco replied.

Mrs. Harrell smiled. "Now, don't feel obligated to bring any gifts; unless you're getting Raven something, of course. I won't say we know the details, but there has been talk over the years about the Malfoy family. I don't want you to go out of your way, dear."

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Draco just nodded. Raven stepped in, saying, "Draco's _fine_, mother," emphasizing the type of fine she meant. "Remember, we're going to Malfoy Manor for the break? That's why I'm only seeing you at Christmas?"

"Ah yes, well. Still don't feel obligated, Draco."

"I will have to bring a gift of my hospitality," Draco answered with a short bow.

Mr. Harrell clapped him on the shoulder. "I like this one, Raven. Not that you've ever brought anyone else to meet us, hm?"

"Yes, Daddy," Raven said with a roll of her eyes, taking her father by the arm and steering him out the door, sending Draco a final wave and smile goodbye.

Apparently, they were off to meet Harry Potter before going home. Draco laughed at the thought of Harry meeting Raven's parents. "He'll never survive," Draco had whispered to Raven, who giggled at the comment.

* * *

Draco was over at Harry's later that night, feeling a little strange with all of his friends around, but a free meal was a free meal, and the girls could cook. Seeing as it was the last day everyone would be together, Draco took great pleasure in knowing that Harry wanted him to be there, while Mikhail was not. 

Of course, the Russian was now with his family in Yorkshire, but that was neither here nor there.

And this was when things started to go sideways.

Owen Cauldwell walked in the door with lipstick all over his mouth. Everyone got really quiet after noticing, and Ron actually stopped chewing his food, which surprised Draco, as he'd never seen the red-head do anything with food but inhale it.

"Er…Owen?" Harry said. "You've…er…got something on your mouth." He gestured to the area around his own mouth, signalling Owen to the stain.

"Huh?" Owen mumbled, rubbing at his mouth and looking at his hand. His eyes immediately got a little glassy and he simply said, "Oh."

"Oh?" Kevin said. "You come home looking like you were snogged within an inch of your life—quite randomly I might add—and all you can say is 'oh'?"

"He's right," Dennis cut in. "You've got a girl, and you've never told us?"

Owen shrugged, sitting down and grabbing a plate. "So I made out with someone, so what? I am I not allowed to have a relationship like the rest of you?"

"I don't have a girlfriend," said Kevin.

"Neither do I," Dennis chimed.

"Neither do I," Harry echoed, and after a moment of blinking, everyone chuckled at the joke.

Not five minutes later, the front door burst open and Blaise came in, calling for Draco.

"Draco! Draco!"

"Blaise?" Draco stood. "Blaise, what's wrong?"

Blaise followed Draco's voice and stopped right outside the dining area. "My mother! She's done it again!"

"Done what? What are you talking about?"

Blaise looked a little crazed. "She found some guy! _Another_ one. I just saw her, and her lipstick was all smudged."

It didn't take much, but almost everyone in the room looked and or turned their heads to stare at Owen. Owen was tense for a moment, but then he had to leap up and around the table, as Blaise caught onto the movement, and noticed the same shade of red on Owen's mouth, and was leaping himself, shouting,

"You! It was YOU! You goddamned son-of-a-bitch! You fucked my mother!"

Everyone stood, some getting out of the way, but most of them standing by reflex and shock, not sure how to react.

Draco cut him off at the pass. "Blaise! Calm down!" he said, trying to restrain his friend, who was obviously about to kill Owen.

"I didn't fuck her!" Owen yelled, hiding behind Dennis and Kevin, who were still looking rather bewildered.

"It doesn't matter! You were obviously up to something!"

"Blaise!" Draco yelled.

"What?!" Blaise shouted, finally looking at the blond.

"Why do you care?" Draco said with a little force. "You've always hated how promiscuous your mother is, but why would you want to fuck up Cauldwell? Why aren't you yelling at your mother?"

"Because he's…he's younger than me! My mother shouldn't be fucking guys _younger_ than her son!"

"I told you, we haven't fucked!" Owen said, which earned him a glare.

"Yeah, but I know you're bloody thinking about it! Leave my mother alone, Cauldwell. It's for your own good, trust me."

"Why? Are you gonna hex me, Zabini? I love her," Owen declared.

A few people looked surprised, but Blaise was livid. "Like fucking hell you love her. She's my _mother_, you little shit. And it's not me you gotta worry about. Have you ever heard of the Black Widow? That's my mother. She'd kill you first. She'll pretend to love you, marry you, then kill you when it's convenient for her. Once she's got a hold of your money."

"Zabini, Owen doesn't have any money," Harry said.

"What?" Blaise said, his head turning to Harry, who was behind him.

"It's true," Owen said, standing a little straighter. "We met at Celestine's. It's where I work. To help pay for school. I don't have much money."

"What Owen says is true," said a voice from the doorway, and they all turned to see Arabella Zabini, who was standing tall and powerful and beautiful, a serious and calculating gaze trained on her son. "I love Owen, Blaise. It has nothing to do with money."

"What? How? How could you possibly love him? You don't even know him! And he's younger than _me_!"

Draco shook Blaise a little to get his attention. "Blaise…think about this for a second. Your mother likes younger men; always has. How old have those men been?"

"I dunno…mid-twenties or so. What's your point?"

"My point is, that while Cauldwell may be a few years younger than us, we're not sixteen anymore. We're in the same age bracket as the other men your mother has dated."

Blaise frowned. "That shouldn't matter." He turned to his mother. "You should be dating people your own age, mother. Not some kid that hasn't even passed his N.E.W.T.s yet."

"You haven't either, Zabini!" Owen jabbed, glaring at the taller man. "Your mother is old enough to know what she wants, and I'm old enough to make my own decisions. Don't butt in."

"Shut the fuck up, you moron. You have _no idea_ what my mother is capable of. She'll get rid of you when you'll least expect it, just wait."

"Blaise Zabini, that is enough!" Arabella commanded. "Regardless of who I am seeing, how old they are, or what my intentions with them are, you are my son, and you will stay out of my personal affairs. Do you understand?"

"No, mother, I don't. I don't understand, how after all this time, you can 'fall in love' with some penniless little brat who's more than half your age!"

Arabella took one step forward. "Have you never thought, son, that perhaps the other men I married deserved what they got? That they were horrible to me, and were maybe only after me and _my_ monetary status?"

"Even my father? You killed him too."

Arabella's gaze narrowed. "I did love your father, Blaise. And he was the only one that I had a child with. But he never wanted children. He didn't want children so badly, that I had to kill him…the very second I saw his wand trained on you while you were sleeping."

There was an uncomfortable air in the room…no one there felt like they had the privileges for the topic of the conversation. But nobody moved. They couldn't.

Then Blaise finally did. He shrugged Draco's hands off his shoulders roughly, before turning and pushing past Harry and his mother, slamming the front door behind him in his wake.

Arabella bowed her head. "I am sorry you all had to witness that. And that this has interrupted your dinner. Draco, it was lovely to see you again; I'm sure it won't be long until the next time."

Draco nodded. "Mrs. Zabini."

Arabella turned and walked towards the foyer, and Owen moved around the table, pushing past Ginny, Seamus, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville.

"Arabel, wait."

As Owen went after the love of his life, the rest of the dinner party shuffled around, rearranging chairs and sitting down again, all in an uncomfortable quiet. They heard quiet words between the two in the kitchen, a soft kiss, and then Owen was falling heavily into his chair, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't think this would be such a mess."

"Did you expect Blaise to take it with good grace?" Draco asked, a little miffed at his friends expense.

"No…I just…well, to be honest, I didn't quite realise that he was _her_ son. She mentioned one, but I didn't put the two together."

Draco shook his head. "You're lucky, Cauldwell. Remember that. Italians are not known for their lack of tempers, and Blaise could have hexed you very badly, and probably beaten the shit out of you too. Just remember to pray to Merlin every night for your health and safety. And you might want to watch your back until Blaise cools down."

"Draco…" Harry said in warning.

"What? I'm being truthful. And seeing as I know Blaise best, I think I'm qualified to say such things in confidence."

Harry sighed, as did most of the table, and dinner was continued in silence and finished with murmured conversations among those sitting close. Owen didn't say a word the rest of the meal, and went up to bed early.

* * *

**A/N: **_So...er...what'd you guys think? I'll say that the feedback I got from my betas told me that the last scene was just fine, and that it wasn't particularly funny, but it gave Blaise a new depth, who is an interesting character, even if he's just a supporting one. So, I'm happy to hear your thoughts. I do still sorta laugh, thinking about Owen scrambling to get away from Blaise, while everyone stands around in shock, and there's food on the table, and chairs everywhere...lol Well. The concept for the idea is kinda funny, at any rate. Oy. I probably need some medication. It's too early. Until next time - Aki_


	30. The Nuptial Yule

**Chapter notes: **_My sincerest apologies for the long delay in this chapter's posting. I always update my website first, then Fanfiction and Fiction Alley, and I was doing a re-vamp of my website, and there were some delays in getting things I needed, so the posting was delayed. (Not to mention some interesting happenings in my life lately...) If you'd like to check my site out, please find the link on my user page._

_As always, I owe all my gratitude to my betas, Omi, IcyAurora, and Michelle. I really couldn't do this without them! (Huggles and kisses, you three!)_

_So - this is one of a few longer chapters for the 2003 Holidays. I really hope you all enjoy this chapter._

**Okay - so I've taken down my very important author's note that I had at the end of this chapter, because I think I've made my point, and it doesn't need to be up there for all eternity. So - if you haven't read it, but want to for whatever reason, let me know, and I'll send it to you. Thank you to all of you who have supported my feelings in this matter, and to those of you who feel I was too harsh, let me bestow on you my apologies. I never meant to hurt anyone's feelings in turn. You all mean a lot to me, and so I am sad to hear that some of you may stop reading. If you ever read this, please accept my deepest apologies.**

**Thank you to everyone, so much, for continuing to read this story (which seems to want to drag itself out). :) I am grateful to all of you.**

**Sincerely,**

**Aki **

* * *

**Chapter XXVIII – The Nuptial Yule**

* * *

"No, Harry, there's _no time_," Hermione emphasized, tugging on her frizzy braid. "The wedding is tomorrow!" 

Indeed, the wedding was tomorrow, and Hermione was in a panic, but for good reason. The magistrate that was to perform the ceremony had to cancel on them – he'd come down with dragon pox.

"Well, can't someone else fill in?" Ginny asked. "Like…Dumbledore or something?"

Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, Ginny, but he's not authorized to join other people. He will be there, though."

"Could you maybe have a stand in? Like, have the ceremony, with someone that feels up to it, and then have a private one with an actual magistrate? You know…like a renewal, which will really be more like the official wedding?" Ginny suggested. "If that made any sense…"

Hermione nodded. "No, it does. But that's not an option, Ginny. Ron and I want to get married, to be _joined_ on the solstice. It's a powerful magical day. It means a lot to us."

"I'm assuming you've floo-called other magistrates?" Harry asked.

"Of course I have, Harry," Hermione retorted, with a tone that belied that Harry had forgotten just how intelligent Hermione was.

Ron burst into the room at that moment, just as Harry was about to make another suggestion. "Charlie can do it!"

"What, Ron?" Hermione asked. "Charlie knows someone?"

"No, Charlie can marry us!" Ron said with a big grin.

Hermione looked sceptical. In fact, she looked as though she didn't believe a word Ron had said. "How, Ronald? Charles is not a minister, nor is he a magistrate of Britain…"

"Actually, he is ordained. Mum told me."

"When did that happen?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

Ron shrugged. "Recently, I guess. Two of his friends wanted to get married, but didn't want a stranger to do it or something, so Charlie told them he'd get the proper permission to marry them."

"But he lives in Romania! Who's to say he can marry people in Great Britain?" Hermione argued.

"He already said he'd do it. I guess that he can."

Hermione sighed. "I need to talk to him about how the ceremony is supposed to go." She leaned against Ron and sighed again. "I'll be back in a little while." She kissed Ron on the cheek. "Don't let him wander off, will you, Harry?"

Harry grinned. "Of course not. He's still got a stag party to attend."

Ron groaned. "I don't know about this party thing, Harry…" he said, dubious.

"Well, Ginny planned Hermione's, so mine really can't be so bad."

"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed. "Harry Potter, just you watch. My stag party will be better than yours!"

"Fat chance."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Is that a dare?"

"Possibly."

Ginny smirked. "Come on, Hermione. Let's leave these poor souls to their own devices." Ginny and Hermione left Ron's room, leaving the two men alone.

Ron sighed. "I don't really know about the wedding thing, either." He sat down on his bed, looking around the room he shared with Neville. "This won't be my room after I get back from Greece."

"Getting cold feet?" Harry asked, leaning against the dresser.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. I'm nervous, yes, but being with Hermione is just…normal, ya know? Easy. It's the whole wedding ordeal. It's too much. Too many decisions, too many things to do, too many people."

"Well, most of Hermione's family aren't coming though, right? They're all Muggles. That's less in-laws to worry about, at least."

"True. But neither of us has a lot of family beyond our parents and my siblings, so the wedding's not going to be very big, anyway."

"I'm sorry I haven't been more curious as to your wedding, Ron. In fact, I nearly forgot I was going to throw you a stag party until Ginny mentioned it to me last month. The good thing is, everyone I was going to invite lives on campus. Though I did ask the twins, but apparently, they're in deep with some new product, and said they'll see you tomorrow."

"Who all did you invite?"

Harry chuckled. "Did I invite the Slytherins, you mean?"

Ron ducked his head. "Yeah. I mean…"

Harry held up a hand. "No, it's okay, Ron. I understand. I…did extend an invitation, but most of them didn't want to come."

"Most?"

"Well, everyone except Draco. He said he thought it'd be fun to watch you get smashed. I tried to tell him there wouldn't be much alcohol, because I know how you get when you drink, Ron," Harry smirked.

Ron put his head in his hands. "Ugh, don't remind me…"

Harry laughed. "Don't worry. I made him promise he'd behave himself."

"Oh, that's reassuring."

"Well, I hear Ginny invited the Slytherin girls, too. Most of them will be at Hermione's stag party. Oh, and Mikhail's coming over from Yorkshire, too."

"Yay! Someone else who doesn't like Malfoy."

"Oh, Ron, give it a rest."

"Well, he's alright, Harry. Really. I know he's not a bad guy."

"But he's still a jerk?" Harry said, nodding. "Yeah, I know. Anyhow, I just didn't want anyone to feel left out. And neither did Ginny."

Ron nodded. "I understand. It's okay."

Harry moved to sit down on the bed next to him. "So what's Hermione doing after you get back from Greece?"

"Well, you know we got that flat in London, right?" Harry nodded, so Ron continued. "Well, she was putting up a few wards, and shopping for some furniture, and ran into someone in the Magical Intelligence Department of the Ministry. Someone who had heard about her work with S.P.E.W.—yeah who would have thought that would have come back to haunt us, huh?" he added at Harry's incredulous look. "Anyhow, they got to talking, and even though S.P.E.W. wasn't exactly the kind of operation they usually go for, they had heard of her, and asked her to come in and take some tests after the term is over. She might have a job there."

"That's really cool. What kind of work would she be doing?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. Something about keeping the country safe or something…I didn't really get it."

Harry chuckled. "Well, what do you want to do? After next term, I mean?"

"I don't know, Harry, what do you want to do?"

Harry shook his head. "It's a toss up between a medical apprenticeship, and trying for a professional Quidditch team. A few are already interested."

"That's kind of a tough decision, isn't it?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. So have you had anything? Didn't Mikhail's father ask you to go by his office or something?"

Ron nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Actually, I'm really looking forward to it. I mean, it's not something I ever thought would be interesting…being a law-wizard…but the way Mr. Chaikovsky described it…it sounded so cool – figuring out how to bring the bad-guys down… Anyhow. I'm going to look into that, and sort of go from there."

"I think you'd be great at that, Ron," Harry said truthfully. "You were always so good at figuring things out, or strategising an offence and a defence, in any case." Harry smiled, and then patted Ron on the knee. "Well, shall we get this place ready for your party?"

Ron groaned as he followed Harry downstairs.

* * *

Now, Hermione wasn't one to drink all that often, but had on occasion. However, she had never had access to this much alcohol, and generally wouldn't have drank so much, but she wasn't going to be bested by the ex-Slytherin girls at her own stag party. 

But perhaps they had bested her anyhow, she thought, seeing as she had given into their game and gotten just as smashed as they were.

"Who's up for a round of Truth or Dare?" Daphne called out, taking a swig of her Firewhiskey.

There were cheers all around, for the most part, but Hermione frowned. "Is this Muggle, or Wizard?" she asked, her words a little slurred.

"Wizard, of course!" Daphne replied. "Come on…get in a circle."

"Oh… I don't know about this…" Hermione said. "We'll be bound to do the dare or tell the truth!"

"That's the point," Tracey said, rolling her eyes.

The girls all crowded around in the Number Two lounge with their drinks, all taking turns challenging dares and probing for the truth.

"Okay," Mandy said, looking around the circle. "Ginny! Truth or dare?

"Oh…truth, I guess."

"Who did you lose your virginity to?"

All the girls giggled, and Ginny blushed into her glass. "Er…oh, well…um."

"Come on…we can't move on until you tell us!" Tracey said.

"Dean. Dean Thomas."

There were 'ooohs' around the circle, and Hermione patted her on the knee, catching the quick look of sorrow that had passed through Ginny's brown eyes.

Taking a quick breath and a quick drink, Ginny looked up, searching the group. "Natalie."

Little Natalie MacDonald looked up, her still-rounded cheeks bright pink with alcohol consumption. "Yeah?" she said a little timidly, her eyes darting around.

"Truth or dare?"

"Um… Dare."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head in thought. "Natalie… I dare you, to kiss Raven."

Raven raised her eyebrow. "Getting some bullocks, are you, Weasley?" She set her drink down and shifted onto her knees.

Natalie looked wide-eyed. "Kiss her?"

Ginny nodded. "Go ahead. I dare you."

Natalie set down her glass, swallowing hard. Then she picked up her glass again and downed the rest of her drink. A few of the girls snickered softly.

Crawling across the circle to Raven, Natalie looked small and nervous. She stopped, kneeling right in front of the dark-haired girl, and said softly, "I've…never kissed anyone before…"

"Really?" Daphne exclaimed, somewhat loudly.

Raven smiled, a touch gentle and a touch devious. "That's okay."

Natalie sat there, just for a moment staring into Raven's green eyes. "Okay," she said, with a bit of a shaken voice, "Okay." Then she leaned forward, her eyes closed, but Raven's hands on her shoulders stopped her. She opened her eyes, blinking. Raven just continued to smile at her, and shifted forward and took Natalie's rounder face in her hands and guided her gently into a soft kiss.

It only lasted a moment, as it was broken by a loud whoop from Daphne, who was obviously the most rambunctious out of everyone there. Natalie pulled back, her cheeks and nose now red, and flushing up to her ears. She stared at Raven a moment, as the other girl dropped her hands, and then scrambled back to her spot on the other side of the circle.

The girls all twittered, and Daphne said, "Okay, MacDonald, it's your turn."

Susan reached over and poured Natalie more Sweet McNeil's Irish Rum. Natalie smiled briefly and took a sip, then said, "Daphne, truth or dare?"

"Dare, of course."

"I dare you to go and flash Ron's stag party."

Hermione's jaw dropped, as did most of the other girls from their dorm, while Raven burst out laughing along with Tracy and Ginny. Daphne looked shocked for a moment before she laughed herself.

"How about this? How about we all go spy on their party?"

"But the point of these parties that Ron and I aren't supposed to see each other before the wedding," Hermione said, even as everyone started standing up.

"Oh, don't be so silly, Granger," Daphne said as she stood. "We're just going to be spying. I'll flash them through the window, and then we'll be back over here. Just a quick jaunt." Daphne was grinning the whole time.

"We can't all go over there, they'll see us!"

"Okay, fine, you stay here. I'm going. Who else?" Daphne looked around the group, and Hermione watched as Raven, Tracey, Natalie, and Ginny stood.

"I want to go," Elenor Branstone said, "but maybe the rest of us can watch from the window?"

Hermione nodded. "That sounds like a good plan."

"Good! Let's go."

The remaining girls all rushed to the far corner of the lounge to watch the other girls' progress out of the dorm and across the grass to the dorm next door through the front and side windows.

Daphne led the way, with Raven just behind her, then Tracy, Ginny and small Natalie. There was barely a sliver of moonlight in the sky, and Hermione could see Ginny and Natalie shiver as a stronger gust of winter wind broke through their cloaks. But suddenly, Daphne stopped, and the other girls froze behind her. Hermione looked over to where Daphne's face was pointed.

Draco Malfoy was on his way over to Ron's party.

* * *

Draco shivered against a gust of wind that tore through his robes. Why was he even going to this party? He didn't even _like_ Weasley. Or Granger. But, Harry said there would be alcohol, and seeing Weasley drunk was something he really couldn't miss. 

However, he wasn't able get much farther than a footstep or two past Number Two when he was tripped horribly by a jinx, rolled over onto his back, and surrounded by nearly half a dozen giggling, inebriated girls.

_Oh no._

"Raven, Daphne, ladies, hi. What can I do for you on this rather cold, December evening?"

"You, are coming with us, Draco Malfoy," Raven said with a devious grin, one Draco would have normally appreciated, but under the current circumstances, wished he wasn't seeing. _I really need to learn to keep my guard up. When did I get so lax?_

"Where are we going?" he asked as they helped them to his feet, their hands seemingly all over him. He cast a curious look at the girl Weasley and at a smaller girl he couldn't recall the name of.

"Oh, just inside, Draco, dear."

Draco didn't resist as the five girls led him inside Number Two, feeling rather excited, though apprehensive at what was to come. Granger came into the foyer, followed by another half-dozen girls, who all looked just as inebriated as the girls who had accosted him.

"Hullo, ladies. How's your party, Granger?"

"Confusing, since you got here. Daphne? Raven? What's going on?"

"We saw him, and decided we needed a boy to help make our party more interesting," Daphne informed her, slipping Draco's cloak off his shoulders. "It was Weasley's idea."

"Ginny?" Granger asked.

The red-head smiled, shaking her curls. "I thought it'd be fun."

"Girls, what are you planning on doing with me?" Draco asked, as they pushed him into the lounge and gave him a snifter of Firewhiskey, pressing on his shoulders to make him sit down on the floor, while the rest of them smiled deviously. Even Granger was looking at him with something akin to deviousness, and Draco was now very unsettled.

"Let's play spin the bottle," Raven announced, leaning against Draco's side.

"But I'm the only male, here, love. Won't that be a little awkward?"

"No, no, no, dear. Only more exciting. Natalie here's already gotten the opportunity to kiss me, and this way, everyone will wonder who gets to kiss you next!"

"And you won't get jealous?" He took a sip from his snifter. It was a good bottle.

Raven shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She leaned forward and all but breathed in his ear, "I didn't mind when you kissed Harry."

Draco quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise made no other movement indicating what Raven had said to him. "Alright, then. If you girls don't mind, I don't mind," he said, thinking that Harry was going to kill him when he didn't show up for Ron's party. He took another sip of his whiskey, feeling that he was going to need it.

"Do you want to start, Draco?" Raven asked, holding up an empty bottle.

"No, ladies first."

Raven set the bottle down and spun it, watching as it landed on Granger. Draco nearly snorted into his drink at the look on Granger's face.

"You wanted to play this too, Granger, don't deny it," he said.

Granger huffed and swiftly put down her drink and scooted over to Raven a few seats away. The kiss was short, but it gave Draco a pleasant view he wouldn't forget for a while. _Maybe this will be fun_.

* * *

_Where is he? _Harry thought for the fifth time in just as many minutes. 

"Hey, you okay?"

Harry turned from the window to look up at Mikhail. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just…worried about Draco. He should have been here by now."

Harry saw Mikhail's jaw clench, even through the glass he was holding up to his lips, drinking what alcohol he had managed to procure for the evening. The party had gone fairly well, so far. Seamus, being the Irishman he was, had taken to getting very drunk (even with limited amounts of alcohol) and bringing Dennis, Kevin and Owen with him. Neville was pleasantly red in the cheeks, watching Seamus and Ron making fools of themselves. Harry had promised himself Ron wouldn't drink too much, but then figured that investing in the ingredients and time to make sobering potions would probably pay off in the morning.

The only two who weren't completely smashed were Harry and Mikhail, but both were sitting on the edge of a fuzzy haze.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon, Harry," Mikhail finally said, giving Harry a kiss on the forehead.

"I think I should go over and make sure he's coming."

Mikhail knocked back the rest of his half-full glass. "Whatever you want, Harry," he said, shrugging.

"You could come with me," Harry offered.

Mikhail shook his head. "No, I better make sure these blokes don't break anything beyond a _reparo_." Harry laughed and kissed his boyfriend.

"I really like you."

"I really like you too." Mikhail leaned down and gave Harry another sloppy kiss.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Harry said when they parted.

"Don't take too long, or I might have to go looking for you."

"I defeated Voldemort, I can do anything," Harry said imperiously, obviously going for humour.

Mikhail sighed dramatically. "My boyfriend, the hero."

"Gah! Stop it!" Harry said, laughing, slipping on his shoes and cloak. "I'm going out for a bit, guys! Don't break anything or hurt each other!" he said to the others.

"Okay, Harry!" came a chorus of obnoxiously drunk voices.

Smiling, Harry stepped outside into the cold, windy winter night. The wind helped dampen out the raucous noise behind him, before he stepped down off the porch and started over to Number Three. He pulled his cloak tighter around him as the wind kicked up and died down just as quickly.

He glanced over to Number Two to see how the girls' party was going, and only saw the yellow glow from the candles and fire. He shrugged. It sounded like a pretty boring party, compared to his.

He reached the third dorm quickly, and rapped loudly on the door before shoving his cold hand back into his cloak. Theodore Nott opened the door.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Hey, is Draco here? He was supposed to come over for Ron's party…"

Nott frowned. "He left a half-hour ago."

"He did?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Okay. If he comes back, could you let him know I came by?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Nott."

"'Night, Potter."

Harry left Number Three feeling distinctly put out. Where the hell did Draco go?

As he passed Number Two, the air had become very still, and in the quiet, loud whooping and some cheers were heard from the girls' party. Curious as to what Ginny's party was really like, Harry crept up onto the porch and kneeled near the lounge window. Peering through a crack in the sheer curtains, Harry spied something he really wished he hadn't seen.

Hermione was kissing Draco.

Kissing, as in, full-on, snogging, and almost on the floor having sex, kind of kissing.

He stared, frozen, watching as the kiss was broken and the girls around them all laughed or called out.

They were obviously playing spin the bottle, but how the hell had Draco gotten involved?

_There's _no way_ he would willingly kiss Hermione… They must have caught him on his way over to the party and made him play!_

Shaking his head, Harry finally stumbled back and ran over to his dorm, bursting into the lounge, panting hard.

"We've got to go rescue Draco!"

Everyone looked up from wherever they were sprawled, and Mikhail managed to push himself out of the chair he was planted in and stumble over to Harry.

"What does Malfoy need rescuing from?"

"The girls! They've kidnapped him!" Harry said in an alcohol-induced panic.

Ron sat up quickly, and Seamus raised his stein in the air. "Let's go gents! One of our own has been taken by the enemy!"

The drunken men all stood, staggering over to the foyer, where they put on their cloaks, and stumbled over their shoes, and where Harry kept urging them on in an attempt to make them move faster.

Finally, all the boys were outside, holding each other up against the wind and alcohol, and moving as quickly as they could with Harry's urging over to Number Two.

Harry jumped up onto the porch, tripping on the top step, and without pretence or decorum, promptly opened the front door and shoved his way in, the rest of his friends falling in after him.

The circle of girls plus Draco looked up from their game, all properly surprised by the intrusion. Hermione was instantly red, and avoided looking at Ron, though his eyes weren't focussed on anything in particular.

"Draco! We've come to rescue you!" Harry announced, stepping into the lounge.

Draco blinked at Harry rather stupidly. "Rescue me from what, Harry?"

"From them!" Harry pointed wildly, the girls all looking rather shell-shocked, or, in Raven's case, rather like the cat who got the cream. "Those…temptresses!" Harry turned to Ron and the rest of his entourage. "They were playing spin the bottle! Hermione and Draco were kissing!"

Ron, with his mouth hanging open slightly, squinted at Harry, and then swung his head over to look at Hermione, who wouldn't meet his eyes, then to Draco, who held Ron's gaze challengingly.

"Malfoy…you _azzhole._ I mean… ASShole. You can't stand having one girlfriend…you've to steal other people's…not to mention Harry…"

Hermione stood. "He hasn't stolen me, Ron. We were just playing a game."

"Harry?" Mikhail said. "What about Harry and Draco?"

Draco also stood. "It's nothing, Chaikovsky."

"It's just about Ron thinking that Draco was stealing me from him, that's all," Harry managed to say with some coherence, blinking as his brain processed that what he was saying made sense.

"Oh, Merlin! Enough of this stupid crap!" Daphne said. "Boys, sit down, let's continue our game."

"But – but -" Harry whimpered, as the other men shrugged and moved to sit down amongst the girls.

Mikhail patted his shoulder. "C'mon. Let's watch."

"What, you don't want anyone else kissing your boyfriend?"

Mikhail leaned in and kissed Harry, automatically slipping his tongue into his mouth. Harry welcomed him, flinging his arms around Mikhail's neck, and engaging fully in the kiss.

"Whoa, boys! Either get a room or come bring some of that to us!" Daphne yelled.

The two men broke apart, laughing. "To answer your question," Mikhail said in his ear, "No, I don't."

"Don't worry, Mikhail. I won't let anyone else kiss me like that. Besides, there are some cute girls over there…" Harry said, grinning and moving over to the circle.

Mikhail stopped following Harry and shuddered. "Eww. _Girls_."

* * *

Harry felt the pounding behind his eyeballs before he was even fully conscious. 

_Oh, god. What the fuck happened to my head?_

Harry pried open his eyes to peer around the room he was in. He was still in the lounge, as was just about everyone who had been there…from what he could see from his position on the couch. He was leaning heavily against Mikhail, who was snoring softly beside him at the end of the sofa. He tried shifting his legs a little, and heard a grunt. Looking down, he found Draco's blond head lolling slightly in his lap. Raven was stretched out beside him, curled up half on top of him, her head on Draco's chest.

_Holy crap…it's like the whole bloody quadrangle…_ Harry thought with a feeble laugh.

"Draco. Psst, Draco. Wake up," he prodded, jiggling his leg a little to rouse the blond.

Draco groaned a little then opened his eyes. "Hullo, Harry."

"Hi, Draco. Why is your head in my lap?"

"Stop talking…I have a headache," Raven mumbled from Draco's chest.

"I think we all do, love," Draco replied, running a hand over her head. He looked back up at Harry and said, "It was comfortable, I suppose; to answer your question."

Harry rubbed his temples. "Ugh. How come you're not grimacing in agony from a hangover?"

"Because I didn't drink nearly as much as you all did."

"Oh my god, shut up!" Daphne said from the floor.

Ron sat up, as if woken by a loud noise. "Wha?"

Harry snorted. "Morning, Ron."

"Morning?" Ron looked around, squinting as the early morning light hit his eyes. "Ow…my head…"

Mikhail shifted, pulling Harry closer to him. Harry looked back down at Draco, who was watching him silently. "You should probably move, before Mikhail wakes up. He won't like that you used my lap as a pillow."

Draco shrugged. "Well, I suppose we should all be getting up anyhow, seeing as it's the 'big day' and all." He wiggled a little to rouse Raven, saying, "Come on, love, time to get up."

"I donwanna."

"Come on." He urged her again, and she sat up rubbing her eyes, and pushing her hair out of her face.

"How long do we have?" she murmured quietly. "Until the wedding?"

"I don't know."

"Wedding?" Ron said. "Oh shit!" He scrambled to his feet from the floor, looking around wildly on the floor for his fiancée. "Hermione? Oh, ow…" Holding his head, he stumbled between sleeping bodies. "Hermione…?"

"She's over here, Ron," Harry heard Ginny say from behind the couch.

Everyone was starting to wake up at this point, except Seamus, who, from what Harry could see, was in what could be described as a comatose state, laying, face down on the floor, in a puddle of his own drool. _Gross_.

Draco was now sitting up next to Harry, Raven leaning against him. And then Harry started to remember what exactly had happened the night before.

They had all sat down to play spin the bottle. Mikhail had sat protectively next to Harry, but participated himself, getting his first kiss from Elenor Branstone, then Seamus, then Luna and Tracey, before he finally backed out to sit on the end of the couch and watch the proceedings.

Harry, thankfully, didn't have to kiss Draco, however, Raven's spin did land on him once, and that was something he didn't mind remembering. Though, he did have to kiss Hermione at one point, and Merlin knows that was awkward. But even more awkward, Harry belatedly remembered, was having to kiss Ron.

They stared at each other for a minute, then at the bottle Harry had spun. Then, at the same time, they both exclaimed,

"No. No _way_."

"I can't kiss him! He's my best friend!"

Draco rationalised, "Harry, you kissed Granger ten minutes ago."

"Yeah, well…this is Ron. It's different."

"Yeah," Ron protested, but didn't elaborate as to why it was so different, probably due to his inebriation.

"Just kiss each other already, so we can get on with this!" Daphne said.

"This is getting boring," Tracey said, leaning against Daphne.

"_Fine_." Harry remembered that he quickly moved the short distance to Ron and kissed him quickly on the mouth, wiping his own mouth with the back of his hand as he went to sit back in his seat. Ron had sat there for a moment, stunned, then continued the game by wiping his mouth and spinning the bottle.

Mikhail stirred next to him, and Harry was shaken out of his reverie. "Hey," Harry said. "Good Morning."

"Morning," Mikhail answered, rubbing his face and stretching. Harry kissed his stubble, smiling.

Ron managed to make his way across the room and around the couch to where Hermione was still getting up.

"Oh no, oh no," she was muttering. "The wedding… Oh Merlin, what time is it?"

"By the light, I'd say it's no later than nine, maybe ten," Draco said.

Ron was helping Hermione to her feet. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. There's so much to do today… Oh, why did I let myself drink?" Hermione moaned.

"Well, you're all lucky," Harry announced. "Draco and I made plenty of hangover potion for everyone."

There was a sigh of relief all around the room, and Harry and Draco shared a smile. Arms then snaked around Harry's neck from behind and he jumped, before Ginny's face appeared between him and Mikhail.

"So who's party to you think was better, Harry? Yours or mine?"

"Oh, mine, definitely. We had a rescue mission."

"Which was unfounded, by the way," Draco said from his other side.

"We had lots of kissing. And truth or dare," Ginny said.

"And a kidnapping," Draco added again.

"We need an objective vote. Someone who was at both. Mikhail?" Harry asked.

Mikhail leaned forward, to look Harry directly in the eye. "I liked ours. No one was kissing you, or me, there. Except you."

Harry rolled his eyes, as did Draco, unseen to them. "Oh, Mikhail, it was just a game," Harry said.

"I know, I know. But can I help it if I don't want anyone else kissing my boyfriend?"

Harry leaned over and kissed him. "Well, I don't want anyone else kissing you, either." Mikhail smiled.

"Harry?" he heard Hermione whimper from behind him. "Hangover potion? Please?"

"Oh! Yes…I've gotta go over to the other dorm. Just a minute." Harry hoisted himself off the sofa, and made his way over to the door, putting on his trainers and cloak before going outside to go get the potion.

His footsteps were a little rocky, and his head was still spinning a little, but the cold air helped clear his head. He went to his dorm and retrieved the bottled potions from the kitchen, hoping he really had made enough for everyone. There were nearly two dozen people there, if Harry could remember everyone correctly.

When he returned, Hermione almost ambushed him for a swig, muttering how vile it was before dashing up the stairs to get ready for the day. One by one, Harry handed the potion out, taking some himself. Twenty minutes later, everyone had already gone home to prepare for the ceremony later that day, or were sticking around, helping Ron and Hermione prepare, by making them breakfast and the like.

Around noon, Mrs. Weasley showed up on the boy's doorstep, coming to make sure everyone was ready to Apparate South to The Burrow.

"Oh, Harry dear," she said. "You look just ghastly! Not getting enough sleep, dear?"

"Er…no, Mrs. Weasley. I imagine most of us haven't."

"Oh, did all you boys stay up all night?"

Harry nodded. "And the girls, too. We were…having a party, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh dear. Well, don't you all know that the big party's today? Should have saved up your energy. Have any of you eaten?" She immediately went to the kitchen, whipping out her wand to set the stove alight, and to get some pans and food going.

"I know the girls have…but most of us over here, haven't, no."

"Alright then, dear. You make sure everyone's ready to go, and I'll just whip up some bangers and mash. Go on!" And she shooed Harry away, up the stairs to check on the others.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Harry was standing in Bill's old room with Ron, dressed in their brand new robes. The ceremony was in thirty minutes. 

And Ron was having a panic attack.

"Ron, you need to calm down," Harry said, his hands out in a placating gesture.

"I don't think I can, Harry," he replied, well on his way to hyperventilation.

"Ron, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just you and Hermione. That's easy, right? You just gotta say 'I do', and that's it."

"But – but – that's not it, Harry! I mean, there's my vows…you know I was never good at memorizing things, and now I'm not sure I remember anything at all! And then there's the ceremonial dance – Hermione's been making me practice, but there hasn't been much time, and hell, I've even seen it more than she has…"

"Ron. You'll be fine. I promise. And, if it's any consolation, Hermione made me memorize your vows too, so I could help you out, if you forget."

Ron looked up. "Really? You have?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Now will you get it together? We need to get outside."

Ron nodded. "Okay. Yeah, okay." He stopped his pacing and nodded again, as if to confirm something, then opened the door to the bedroom, stepping outside. Then immediately ran back into the room, nearly knocking over Harry, who was right behind him.

"Whoa, Ron, what the-"

"I can't do it, Harry! I can't remember anything, and my stomach is in knots-"

"Ron, Ron! Just think…in a few moments, you'll be outside, and then you'll see Hermione, and she'll be beautiful in her wedding robes, and then you'll be married!"

Ron looked momentarily stunned by the mental vision of what Hermione might look like in her wedding robes. Then he frowned and went to the window, looking down on everyone waiting in the garden for the wedding to begin. Thankfully, it wasn't raining…though, since it was December, the sky was naturally overcast.

"Wait-" Ron said, frowning. "What's Malfoy doing here?"

"You invited him, Ron," Harry said, wanting to roll his eyes.

"Even after he kissed Hermione?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, even after he kissed Hermione. While playing spin the bottle, I might add."

"We kissed too, didn't we?"

Harry felt embarrassment wash over him. "Yeah, Ron. But don't worry; I don't fancy you or anything."

Ron nodded. "I know. So why did I invite Malfoy again?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really remember. Something about that he was actually alright. You extended the invite to Raven, too."

Ron groaned. "This is going to be a disaster."

"No it's not. Come on, Ron. The wedding's supposed to start soon. Let's go downstairs." Harry grabbed Ron by the shoulders and started ushering him out the door and down the stairs.

"Harry…the twins are here. Do you really think everything's going to go smoothly?"

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath, looking behind her at Ginny and smiling before stepping out of the kitchen and into the garden. She could feel the magic of the ceremony beginning to wash over her as her entry signalled the magic to start building until its crescendo at the finale. 

At the end of the aisle, Ron looked up, and the expression on his face – so full of wonder and love – struck Hermione exactly through her heart, and she felt his love like a physical tingle all over her skin though there were several yards separating them. And she could hear his thoughts…which almost made her giggle, as they weren't much more than random gibberish, and a few syllables that sounded like adjectives if strung together in the right order. This was the beginning. The true beginning of their joining. When their love for each other became a physical magical manifestation, and there was no denying how real it was.

Hermione started up the aisle as a delicate harp melody played softly, her white robes glittering in the afternoon light, the overcast sky no match for the brilliance of her beauty. Her robes were as white as snow, and shimmered as it did on a sunny winter's day. Ice-blue silk lined in the inside of the long sleeves, and silk ribbon of the same colour crisscrossed over the front and back of the bodice, shaping her slim and womanly frame. Ribbon was laced around the edges of her sleeves, tied in a bow, and left to fall down to the ground. Her hair was braided close to her head around her face, and then styled in curling waves down her back; crowned in a wreath of tiny calla lilies with long blue ribbons flowing through her hair.

Harry was staring at her much like he had when he saw her at the Yule ball nearly ten years ago, and she smiled back at him.

Hermione saw Harry's eyes shift slightly, and knew that he was seeing Ginny, looking just as beautiful in mint green and gold, her own red locks falling in deep curls down her back, sparkling with gold magic.

Hermione finally reached Ron, smiling brilliantly as the procession ended. She handed her small bouquet of lilies to Ginny, who now stood beside her. The harp music trailed off softly, and Charlie, smiling broadly in his plain black robes, began the ritual.

"Today is a day of blessed union. It is also the Winter Solstice. Yule; the shortest day of the year. Yet today, we celebrate a joining of the longest, most potent magic there is. Love. Being an older brother of the groom, I cannot tell you how much pleasure it brings me to perform this rite; to join these two people who have loved each other since before they even knew they loved each other." There were a few chuckles at this, and then Charlie continued. "There are four important steps to this bonding – and none holds precedent over the others. This day, both in its calendar meaning, and in its ceremony, is a day to bear witness to the building blocks of the world around us. _Terra; Aer; Ignis; Aqua_. Each must be recognised before the souls gathered here, and before Magic, which flows through all things. Ron, Hermione, please light the union candle."

Charlie moved aside to reveal a small table behind him, which held a tall white pillar candle between two slim red tapers. Ron and Hermione stepped forward, drawing their wands from their sleeves. They each cast a magical blue fire to their taper, picking them up as one, and blending their fire to light the pillar. The pillar sprung to life, the magical blue flame twisting and changing colours constantly. Charlie explained the meaning of the gesture.

"Lighting this candle symbolises a few things. First, the bonding of their magic – using their magic to light the individual candles, then in turn light the one. It fuses their magic in a way that can only be done with true love – the second symbol of this gesture. Magic between two magical beings can only be combined in this way if there is pure commitment and unadulterated trust. Their love is fused as well, and this is the physical expression of their bond. May the light of your love last forever, through this ever-burning fire."

Ron and Hermione stepped back, and Ron put his wand away with shaking hands, smiling at Hermione, who bit her lip and smiled back, her cheeks rosy with the gathering cold. Harry couldn't stop grinning; this was the most wonderful thing he felt he'd ever had the grace to be a part of. Ginny locked eyes with him, and she was smiling too, almost on the verge of tears, he could tell, and she shuffled a little to cover up her tiny sniffle. Charlie continued the ceremony from his position behind the table.

"Ron, Hermione, would you please join hands."

Hermione placed her hands in Ron's larger ones, and they looked into each other's eyes as Charlie recited the incantation to start the bonding, pointing his wand at their joined hands.

"This is your bond. Your bond of love, your bond of trust, your bond of magic. _In amor, in credo, per divinitus, ego redimio vos_. (1)" A white-blue glow came from the end of Charlie's wand, and a rope of the same white-blue light coalesced on Ron and Hermione's clasped hands, wrapped around and around, glowing with brighter and brighter intensity as the ceremony went on. "Saying vows is the force of wind breathing life into our convictions, solidifying them for all to hear. Ron, it's time to say your vows."

Ron's gaze snapped from his hands to Charlie's face, and he gulped a little. "Um," he cleared his throat, and looked back down to his hands before catching Hermione's gaze. He stood there, completely still for a moment, and Harry elbowed him gently to get him going. Ron started again, a little louder. "Hermione, I—I love you. I guess that much would be apparent, considering I'm marrying you, but like Charlie said, I've loved you since before I even realised that that was what I was feeling.

"You've always been there, you know, nagging me to do my homework and things, berating me when I come to you to get it done in time, and at first, when we were just eleven, I thought you were bossy and a know-it-all. But it grew on me somehow, and it was almost too late before I realised what I was feeling. Even in school, when we were dancing around each other, I still couldn't admit that I had fallen for you. Most people wouldn't have thought you were the prettiest, but that didn't matter to me. In fact, it never crossed my mind. For a while, I thought you might like Harry," Ron said with a grin and a quick glance behind him, "but when it was apparent you weren't jealous when he was interested in other girls, and he obviously didn't like you that way, I thought maybe, just maybe, I would be able to capture your attention. I wasn't sure…you were so smart, and I always felt so dumb in comparison, I thought, 'why would you want me?' But finally, I did it; I asked if you wanted to be my girlfriend. It was practically the middle of the war, but you kissed me immediately and said 'yes' anyway, even though we weren't sure if we were going to be alive the next day.

"And then I couldn't help it; I fell in love harder." Ron glanced down at their hands, taking a deep breath. "You've made me so happy, Hermione, even when I thought you were going to drive me crazy; even when you were. I can't thank the heavens enough for letting us survive the war, for letting us have a chance at something this wonderful. I love you, Hermione, and I always will. I may not always be able to take care of you, because more than likely, you'll be the one taking care of me, but I'll try. That's my promise to you. To love you and care for you through anything." He took one last breath and looked up into Hermione's shining brown eyes. "This, I vow to thee."

There were definitely a few sniffles in the crowd, and Harry glanced over to see Draco looking moderately impressed. Raven was grinning beside him, and so were the rest of Harry's friends. Mikhail caught his eye and winked, and Harry looked back to Ron and Hermione, blushing.

Then it was Hermione's turn.

"Ron, I can't tell you how much of a blessing you are in my life. Even before I found out I was a witch, I wasn't very social. I was ostracised and thought of, as you put it, a bossy know-it-all. More than enough times did you hurt my feelings in school, because all I wanted was for you to be my friend, to really care about me, and then you did, and I just didn't notice. Neither of us was very good at expressing our true feelings, and I know I only confused you when I acted upset at you about something, just like I'm sure I didn't want to see why you were really such a prat about Viktor. But now I know. You loved me, and I was too blind myself to see what your reactions really meant. Harry never acted that way, and now I know why. You think I'm so smart, Ron, but really, my brains can't compare to your strength and courage in my life. You've kept me going, Ron, just when I thought nothing I could do would help, and you shoved humanity in my face, when all I was thinking about was hard facts. You've reminded me that life isn't in a book, and that there are other things besides facts to live by. You've brought life and love to me, and even as being friends with Harry might have put us all in danger, and you were always there as the strength I thrive off of. You're stronger and more brilliant than you realise, Ron, and I love you more so because of that.

"Perhaps to outsiders, you and I have looked like Harry's sidekicks, when really our combined strength and wit have been an important part of all our lives. And perhaps, to some, it's looked like we'd always get together, or that I was the one taking care of you. But Ron, you've been the one taking care of me. You don't know how much I rely on you, how scared I was that you might never ask me to be with you, that we might never get the chance to have this wonderful thing. I would have married you then, if you had asked, instead of asking me to be your girlfriend. Because I love you, Ron, and I have since before I wanted to acknowledge it. All my life I wanted to find that something special and you are that, Ron. And I promise to cherish that forever. To care for you even when you don't need it, and to support you in all that you do. Through anything. This, I vow to thee."

Hermione finished, having looked into Ron's blue eyes the entire time without falter. Ron's eyes were wet, and he smiled, sniffling. Ginny wiped her eyes, and Harry took a shuddering breath, blinking his happy tears away. Mrs. Weasley could be heard sobbing quietly in the audience.

Charlie cleared his throat softly, and pointed his wand at their hands, reciting the final incantation: "_Per vestri amor, per vestri credo, per vestri lacuna, ego redimio vos._ (2)"

Everyone watched as the glowing rope around Ron and Hermione's hands sunk down underneath their skin, fading as the bond took hold. Ron squeezed Hermione's hands once, swallowing and letting out a breath that sounded somewhat like relief. Even Hermione looked a little more relaxed. One of the hardest parts was over. The bond wouldn't have taken properly if the two hadn't meant what they had said with the utmost sincerity.

Charlie smiled. "And now it's time for Mother Earth to have her say. Harry, Ginny, the rings, please." As Harry and Ginny produced the rings from their robes, Charlie addressed the audience. "These rings are a physical representation of Ron and Hermione's love. They are forged from pieces of earth, in an everlasting circle; symbolising strength, unity, and life's cycles. It is with these rings, that their love is solidified and visual to the world."

Ron turned and accepted the delicate band from Harry, who held it out to him. Looking down at Hermione he said, "As this ring, my love is endless. Like the earth, it is eternal." He slipped the ring onto her left hand, his own shaking only slightly.

Hermione took her own, slightly wider band from Ginny, placing it on Ron's left hand and saying, "As this ring, my love is endless. Like the earth, it is eternal."

Charlie didn't need to prompt them to kiss–but it was sweet and full of emotion, and Harry thought he heard Mrs. Weasley cry a little louder, even as the twins whooped and their friends clapped loudly. The majority of the ceremony was complete. All that was left was the dance. Once again, he addressed the audience.

"This circle is nearly complete. One last part calls our attention. The Dance of Water. Please, let us all stand and follow the bride and groom to the reception area, where they will finalise their union in dance."

The small gathering rose, and followed the nervous bride and groom to an area a few yards away; where there was a tent set up with many tables laden with stay-fresh foods of all kinds, accompanied with tables surrounded by white wicker chairs for seating. Just outside the tent was a make-shift dance floor; a bit of the grass transformed into a solid wood-floor dancing area. As Hermione and Ron stepped onto the floor, and everyone gathered around, soft music began to play, a tinkling melody that told of love, and passion, and a life-long bond. The couple stood opposite, ready to start the age-old dance ritual; and as if on a cue, the overcast sky released thousands of tiny water crystals, falling slowly down, sparkling like diamonds.

Hermione smiled, her eyes reflecting the tiny sparkles, and Ron smiled back, feeling much more confident. At the right beat, he began the dance, one of the oldest rituals of a wizard wedding. He stepped diagonally to the right, keeping his eyes locked with Hermione's, raising his left hand to join with hers as they moved in a slow circle. Then they turned in place, switching hands and directions. Once they had completed the circle in both directions, Hermione stepped away, twirling and raising her arms up above her head before ending in a standing position, her arms stretched out from her sides, and her head tipped back, her back facing Ron.

Ron stepped forward, slipping his hand around her waist, and his other stretching out to clasp her hand and lead her in a large, graceful circle. At the end of their first pass, they quickly stepped back two steps together, then forward one. Then Hermione slid from Ron's embrace and twirled under his arm and around him in circles, while he followed her with his eyes. When she stopped behind him, it was nearly impossible to see her behind Ron, but they repeated their large circle from before; this time, with Hermione leading Ron.

When this circle was finished, Ron turned quickly and caught Hermione in his arms, pushing her back in quick steps that were near in sync with the music, and they danced, and he twirled her, and took steps that resembled a fast waltz, their hands changing positions, and only at one point was Ron required to lift her up in a half-circle.

He was doing amazingly well, Harry thought, seeing as he was just as clumsy as Ron in the dance department, and couldn't be any help at all in teaching him how to do his own steps. Thankfully, Ginny did know the dance, and managed to help her rhythmically-challenged brother from making a fool of himself in front of everybody.

Harry felt someone press gently into his side, and looked up to Mikhail, who was smiling softly down at him. Harry smiled back and took his hand, twining their fingers and looking back to his two best friends as the dance ended, the last note lingering on the quiet snowiness of the afternoon.

The quiet broke with the sobs and clapping of the audience, and Ron leaned down to kiss his new wife, giving her a hug that lasted for moments. The wedding-goers started to dissipate, most going to the tent for the reception, and the rest lingering around to congratulate the newly weds.

Mrs. Weasley popped up in front of Harry, tear tracks down her cheeks and a handkerchief clutched in her hand. "Oh Harry, dear," she cried, reaching up to give him a big hug. "The wedding was beautiful! And you look so handsome, and my baby boy is married – oh goodness!"

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. Yes, it was lovely," he replied, releasing Mikhail's hand and patting her on the back. Over her shoulder, he saw Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley congratulating the couple, shaking hands with Ron and patting him on the shoulder, and giving Hermione teary hugs.

"Oh, Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley cried, moving from Harry to her daughter so quick that Harry almost fell forward. "Oh, Merlin, I should put up some heating charms so everyone doesn't freeze to death with this snow…" Mrs. Weasley rambled on, sniffling and appraising Ginny's appearance.

He heard a click and a whirr, and turned to the left to see Raven with her camera, taking pictures of Ron and Hermione and their fathers. She caught him looking and turned and snapped a shot of him as well. He blushed and turned away.

Mikhail leaned down. "You look amazing, Harry."

Blushing harder still, Harry said, "You look pretty nice yourself."

Mikhail smiled, though it waned slightly as he caught sight of something behind Harry. Harry turned and saw Draco, and prayed to any and all gods out there that there wouldn't be a fight between them today.

"Hi, Draco."

"Hello, Harry. Lovely wedding. Weasley didn't trip up once. I'm surprised."

"I am too, actually," Harry said, chuckling.

"You look stunning in your dress robes," Draco said with a smirk.

Harry glanced away and felt Mikhail's presence right behind him. "Er…thank you. Yours look nice too."

Draco caught Mikhail's eye then looked back to Harry and grinned. "Well, I'd better go congratulate the bride and groom. See you around, Harry. Chaikovsky."

"Bye, Draco."

Mikhail nodded. "Malfoy."

Draco turned away then turned back around and stepped forward, looking directly into Mikhail's dark brown eyes. "Normally I wouldn't really care about asking, but would you mind if I steal Harry for one dance later?"

Mikhail narrowed his eyes in thought, looking Draco up and down as if something funny might have gotten into the water; assuming he'd had anything to drink that day.

"I don't dance, Draco," Harry put in, hoping to ease some of the strange tension.

"One dance," was Mikhail's curt reply, ignoring Harry's comment.

"Hey!" Harry protested, turning around to look up at Mikhail.

"One dance," Draco acknowledged, nodding before turning away to go talk to Ron and Hermione.

Harry gaped after him. "Why is it no one listens to me?"

Mikhail kissed his hair and gave him a hug from behind. "Because I was trying not to fight with Draco on your friend's wedding day."

"You ignored me too," Harry pouted.

Mikhail was saved from answering by Ron and Hermione waving Harry over to them just as Draco nodded at them and walked into the tent, smiling. Harry extracted himself from Mikhail's embrace and jogged over to where his best friends stood.

Ron wrapped him in a hug immediately. "Holy crap, Harry, I'm married."

Harry hugged him back fiercely. "You totally deviated from your vows. You were on your own, mate."

Ron pulled back, grinning ear to ear. "Yeah, I know. I couldn't even remember the first words, really, so I just figured, 'what the hell' and went with it."

Hermione looped her arms through Ron's. "And after he said all those things, I couldn't really just reply with what I had originally, so I winged it too."

Harry stepped over and gave Hermione a hug as well, kissing her on the cheek. "You look beautiful, Hermione. I hadn't a chance to tell you that."

"Thank you, Harry. You look handsome too, in your robes."

"So everyone says," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

Raven walked up, camera in hand. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mind if I get a picture of the wedding party?"

Hermione smiled. "That'd be great! Thanks, Raven. I think our photographer is in the tent somewhere…"

"My pleasure. Where's Ginny?"

"Over there," Harry said, gesturing to the tent. "Hey, Ginny! We're taking pictures!"

Ginny said something to Seamus, whom she had been talking to, and walked over, raising her hands to her hair to make sure it was still set.

"Where should we stand?" Hermione asked.

Raven glanced around. The snow was still falling, but very softly, and there was already a fine dusting on everything. "Under that tree, over there," she answered, pointing to a large elm tree just to the right of the tent.

Ron and Hermione stood in the middle, with Harry and Ginny flanking them. Raven set up a tripod, quickly attaching the camera before taking a few shots. Then she asked to take a few of just Ron and Hermione, then Harry and Ginny, and finally, the parents with the bride and groom.

While Harry watched as Mrs. Weasley fussed over her hair and robes, Mikhail came up next to him and asked, "Hungry? It looks like there are some really delicious offerings."

"Well, I'd expect them to be delicious. Mrs. Weasley's the best." Harry turned to Mikhail and smiled. "But yeah, I am a bit hungry. Even though Mrs. Weasley cooked us all breakfast, we were in such a hurry, I don't think much of us ate anything."

Mikhail smiled. "Let's go get some food, then."

The tent was full of hungry and chattering patrons, the loudest of which were the twins, who were standing conspicuously close to the punch bowl. Harry filled his plate with hors d'oeuvres and treacle tarts, his favourite dessert, and, narrowing his eyes at Fred and George, took a glass of ruby red punch, sitting down next to Mikhail at a table nearby.

Seamus was wolfing down some food as well, and the rest of his mates were either getting food or sitting down to chat and wait for the newly weds to arrive in the tent. Draco was talking to a cousin of Ron's…and it looked like he was remembering that he was a very distant cousin of this man as well. He was a catty thing, babbling away with bright eyes and red hair, and Draco looked as if being polite was going to break a bone. Harry spotted Dumbledore talking to Remus, Bill and Charlie, and he was happy to see the old man was still fairing well. The photographer was wandering around, snapping pictures of groups and individuals.

Looking around, Harry realised that mostly everyone there was a friend from school; or some random family member of Ron's Harry didn't know. Harry wondered if it bothered Hermione to not have all of her family there, seeing as they were Muggles.

The food was just as good as Harry knew it would be, and the punch was also rather tasty. The twins came over and wrapped themselves around Harry, calling hellos and whispering lewd questions in his ear.

"So, Harry, we hear you're bangin' blokes now. Why didn't you tell us?"

Harry flushed bright red and elbowed Fred in the gut. "Fred… I'm not _banging_ anyone."

"What? We were led astray? Damn those papers! We should sue for misleading information!" exclaimed George.

"I _do_ have a boyfriend, though, George, who you're practically sitting on."

George made a strange yelping sound and whirled around, moving to stand next to his brother.

Mikhail smiled and stood. "You must be the infamous Weasley Twins. Harry's told me a bit about you."

"Infamous?" Fred said.

"Twins?" asked George. "Who told you that rubbish?"

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes, introducing the twins to Mikhail, and diverting their attention by asking about their ever-growing business. That took them off in a whole new direction, and they sat down at the table, bringing much laughter to whoever was listening in.

"So what new inventions have you got going since we talked last?" Harry asked, standing to get more punch.

Just then, Ron and Hermione came into the tent, followed by their parents. Everyone broke out in applause, and Harry watched as the twins jumped up and bounded over to their brother, giving him noogies, and kissing Hermione in an almost un-brotherly way. Mrs. Weasley wiped her tears and conjured up another tent to cover the dance floor, complete with twinkling lanterns and a radio, which she quickly charmed to play music non-stop.

"Harry, it's delightful to see you again."

Harry turned around to find Dumbledore, still spry despite his long years, still twinkling eyes despite a war, having gained a few wrinkles to add to the merry lines in his face.

"Professor Dumbledore, hi!" Harry shook his hand. "How have you been?"

"Oh, just wonderful, really. Hogwarts students never really change. Still the same old rivalries, despite everything."

Harry nodded. "I can imagine some resentment…" he said uncomfortably, trailing off.

"So, Harry, I hear you're doing well these days. Got yourself a boyfriend, the rumours say."

Harry blushed. "Er… yes, I do."

"I'm guessing he's that bright young man who's been sitting next to you."

"Oh, yes. Mikhail. His name is Mikhail Chaikovsky."

"He seems very nice. Went to Hogwarts, didn't he? I am starting to find my memory isn't what it used to be."

Harry's brow crinkled, thinking that Dumbledore had to be nearing 170, so the fact that he remembered much of anything was a miracle. He shrugged. The Wizarding World had its own mysterious ways of cheating death.

"Yes, he did go to Hogwarts," Harry answered. "Left in 1993."

"Hm. Well, I suppose he's worth settling on."

Something about the old man's tone made Harry pause in his punch drinking. "What do you mean by that, Professor?"

Dumbledore put a heavy gnarled hand on his shoulder, with a kind smile. "I hope you're happy, Harry, my boy."

"I am." _I think_.

"Ah, well, I must be going; I hear the truffles calling me."

Harry stared after Dumbledore in confusion. He really was a dotty old man, Harry concluded, and poured more punch into his glass.

Mikhail stood and walked over to him. "Do you want to dance?"

Harry smiled, but rolled his eyes. "Mikhail, I'm never going to learn how to dance. Why don't you just give up now and save your self the bruised toes?"

Mikhail kissed him on the cheek. "Because I love you, and I have faith in your ability to do anything." He took the glass of punch Harry had just poured and took a drink himself. "Besides, I can't have you dance with Malfoy first."

"Oh will you two just cut it out?" Harry groaned, laughing under his breath. "Maybe I don't want to dance at all, how's that sound?" he said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Too bad, you're dancing anyhow," Hermione said from behind them, and they turned to look at her.

"What do you mean, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"You're dancing with me, Harry, that's what I mean. Come on," she said, grabbing a hold of his hand and dragged him over to the dance floor, where Ron was curiously dancing with Raven. Harry arched an eyebrow, but didn't have much time to think about it as Hermione spun him around, and said, "Take my waist." Rolling his eyes for what had to be the tenth time in twenty minutes, Harry did as he was told, and let Hermione lead him in a semi-slow dance.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Hermione asked, looking up at him.

"Of course, are you kidding me? My two best friends in the whole world just got married, I got to be a part of it, and I get to enjoy Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Ron's mother, not you," he added, smiling at her.

Hermione blushed and covered her face with one hand. "Oh my god, I nearly forgot. I'm 'Mrs. Weasley' now."

"Now Draco can't call you 'Granger' anymore, either."

"I'm sure he'll just love having someone else to call 'weasel'," she joked.

"Oh, he's gotten over that, for the most part," Harry replied.

"I'm glad to hear that." She paused, and continued with a slightly more solemn look. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you much lately, Harry. I know you've been dealing with Mikhail and Malfoy…"

"Don't, Hermione. Don't be sorry. You've been busy planning this awesome wedding! It's fine. There's nothing really going on; just general hostility. Makes me wonder if that's what Draco and I were like back at Hogwarts."

Hermione smiled. "From what I've heard, it doesn't even compare."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Were we really that bad?"

"Harry, think about all the things you guys did to each other, in the name of mutual hatred. Is that anything like what Malfoy and Mikhail have going on now?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Er…I guess not," he answered, chuckling. "But really, don't worry about me. This is your wedding day. You're beautiful, the ceremony was beautiful, and you've got a whole reception to get through. By the way, I think the twins put something in the punch." He scrunched up his nose in thought. "I've had a few glasses though, and I don't feel any different, so maybe not."

Hermione threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, Merlin, give me strength. I am now related to those two."

"You know you're going to have twins just like them, don't you?"

Hermione dropped her head on his shoulder and groaned.

* * *

Raven smiled at Ron and asked again. "Would you like to dance?" 

"Er…um…" Ron looked to Hermione who smirked and nodded. "Knock yourself out, Raven."

Raven grinned and took Ron's hand, leading him over to the dance floor, while Hermione stepped farther into the tent. Ron gulped nervously and said,

"Malfoy's not gonna kill me for touching his girl, is he?"

Raven put Ron's hands on her waist, and put her hands on his shoulders. "No, Weasley. You'll be fine. In fact, I think after the dance ritual, Draco told me he wouldn't mind dancing with the bride."

Ron narrowed his eyes as they danced. "He better not try anything."

Raven smiled. "He won't."

"Why'd you want to dance with me?"

Raven shrugged. "I dunno. It seemed like the thing to do. You're the groom; I thought I should offer you my congratulations."

Ron shrugged. "Okay then."

Raven smiled. "You're not so bad, Weasley."

"You're not so bad yourself," Ron replied with a smile of his own. He looked over to his wife, who had actually managed to get Harry to dance. "Raven?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still like Harry?"

Raven looked puzzled. "You mean, _like him_, like him?"

Ron turned back to her. "Yeah."

Raven looked over to Harry and Hermione and soft look passed through her eyes. "Yeah. I do."

"I still don't understand how you and Malfoy could…"

"Could what? Both want Harry?"

"Er…yeah. I mean, maybe it just goes against my sensibilities, but even if Hermione and I both liked the same person, I wouldn't be able to see her with him. Or her," he added as an afterthought. "I would just be too jealous, I think."

Raven shrugged. "I don't really know how to explain it. Draco really didn't like him three and a half months ago. I did. And…well, I sorta got him to see Harry the way I did. As someone to care for, rather than to antagonise."

Ron nodded. "I understand that part. I just don't know how Malfoy could go from hating Harry to wanting to be his friend so quickly. And then wanting to shag him."

Raven debated on how to answer that and finally said, "Maybe there was something there before that no one really saw; and it took a little push and shove in the right direction to find it."

Ron looked calculatingly down at her. "I don't think Harry's over Malfoy," he said abruptly.

"You don't?"

"No. Don't tell Malfoy, but…I don't think Harry's as happy with the Captain as he seems to be. Don't get me wrong – I'd rather see Harry with someone _other_ than Malfoy – but I think what happened between him and Harry hit Harry hard, and he hasn't gotten over it."

Raven cocked her head. "I think, Mr. Weasley, that you may be right. I know it's eating Draco alive, seeing Harry with Mikhail. It hasn't been easy. And, I don't take any offence with you subtlety bashing my boyfriend either, so don't worry about me hexing you on your wedding day," she finished sweetly.

Ron blushed. "Er…sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Yes, you did, Weasley. But that's okay. I imagine it hasn't been easy getting used to the idea that Draco Malfoy now has a permanent fixture in your life; in your best friend's life; when you were perfectly happy ignoring him after the war."

"Yeah… That – was a challenge. Harry and I fought a bit over that one."

Raven grinned. "I'm sure you did."

* * *

Once Harry and Hermione were done dancing, Mikhail swooped in and took Harry for a spin, laughing hysterically at Harry's wide-eyed look. 

"Mikhail…." Harry mock-whined.

"Come on, love. One dance. Please?"

"Oh, alright. You've twisted my arm," Harry said, grinning, and leaned up to kiss Mikhail soundly on the mouth, earning a few catcalls and whistles from the Weasley clan, and a few gasps if he wasn't mistaken.

Oh, who cared? Harry liked blokes, the whole world knew, and he didn't give a fuck what they thought about it. He had a sweet, protective boyfriend, lots of supportive friends, and a wonderful career ahead of him, whichever one he decided to take.

He and Mikhail enjoyed their dance, and then Harry insisted on sitting down and socialising. The reception was up and running at this point, with everyone laughing jovially, eating, drinking, and going to the bride and groom to extend congratulations, hugs, and small gifts. Dumbledore was charming some young relations of Ron's by sending singing bubbles into the air that changed into butterflies and made the children bounce with glee and laughter, jumping around and trying to catch them in their tiny hands. It even looked like Draco was having fun; he was sitting with Charlie, and Bill, laughing more than Harry ever remembered seeing him do before outside of with Raven. Maybe there _was_ something in that punch…

Raven was sitting next to Draco, but her attention was diverted to little Natalie MacDonald, who was on her right, talking to her in noticeable hushed tones. Their conversation didn't look particularly serious though, because everyone was smiling or laughing. But this was a wedding, right?

Remus appeared by Harry's side, and Harry stood to give him a hug.

"Hi, Remus."

"Good to see you, Harry." He leaned a little closer. "How've you been?"

Harry caught the undertones of Remus' question. "Oh, fine. Great, actually. You?"

Remus smiled. "The full moon was about ten days ago. I'm back on my feet. It's good to be at something so happy after so long."

Harry smiled. "I'm so happy for them. I nearly cried."

Remus' laughter was hearty. "It's good to cry a little sometimes, I think. But I'm glad you're doing well, Harry. Come by for tea, won't you?"

"I will, Remus."

A Celestina Warbeck song started on the radio, and Mrs. Weasley insisted that she dance with her little newlywed son to her favourite singer. Ron groaned but complied anyway, and Draco noticed their movement to the other tent and caught Harry's eye, gesturing to the dance floor with his head.

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded, kissing Mikhail and whispering that Draco wanted his dance right then. Mikhail just kissed Harry again and said that that was fine, and to go have fun. Harry might have thought this was odd, except he was enjoying himself too much to care.

He met Draco on the dance floor, and automatically put his arms around Draco's shoulders, while Draco slipped his arms around Harry's waist and held him very closely. Harry didn't mind that either.

"I think…Fred and George really did put something in the damn punch," Harry said into Draco's shoulder. "Because Mikhail just told me to go have fun dancing with you."

"Maybe he's coming around. No one can resist my charms for long, Potter. You know that."

Harry lifted his head. "Yeah. I know."

While they danced, Draco saw Raven drag Chaikovsky to the dance floor from over Harry's shoulder. He shot a curious eyebrow with the girl, and got a smirk in return. Sighing, he looked down at the man in his arms.

"I miss you, Harry."

"Draco, I miss you too, but don't start. Please."

"I'm not; I'm just saying I miss you. Even before…it was like it was just you and me, you know? Now I've got to compete for your time with Chaikovsky, and I miss having you around more often."

"Well, I have a boyfriend now, and you have Raven. So there's really no reason to miss me."

"Don't you miss Weasley and Granger from time to time?"

"Weasley."

"What?"

"Remember? She's a Weasley now."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You know what I meant. When they started dating, didn't you miss just having them around as friends rather than watching them suck face?"

"Eww…Draco…"

Draco frowned. "Yeah, that was a bad mental image."

"So was you kissing Hermione."

Smirking, Draco retorted, "Jealous, Potter?"

"You wish, Malfoy." Harry shook his head. "No…just…alarmied. I was drunk. I swear I saw you guys practically on the floor all over each other. I thought I should warn Ron."

"Like I'd really want something he touched. No offence to Grang- er…whatever. Hermione, then. She's not really so bad. Still a bloody know-it-all though."

"You know, I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for her brains."

"And for that, I am forever grateful to her over-sized cranium."

"Her head isn't big."

"Not physically, you dolt. Ugh, nevermind. How much of that bloody punch did you drink?"

"A few glasses, I think."

"Hm. I only had one. You say you think the twins did something to it?"

"They were standing rather close to it earlier."

Draco frowned, thinking he'd have to look into it before he had any more. The blond breathed in, and he could smell Harry, unconsciously pulling him closer. He could feel the heat of Harry's body through his robes, and could faintly smell the shampoo and aftershave he used. He swore he could feel Harry's heartbeat, and wished that it were true, because it would mean their hearts beat in sync. To him, it was like they fit perfectly, and Draco couldn't understand how Harry could be denying something that felt so right.

"I would do anything to go back with a Time-Turner and change what happened that morning," he said softly into Harry's ear, almost as if thinking out loud.

Harry looked up and found himself closer than he remembered wanting to be to Draco. "Er…Draco…"

"I would, Harry. You know I would."

Harry pulled back as much as Draco allowed. "Draco, I said-"

"Am _I_ standing too close to _you_ now?" the blond asked, his voice dropping and becoming almost husky.

Harry frowned. "Um…yeah. Mikhail might get angry, and I really don't want you two to fight."

Draco bit his lip, and debated with himself. Harry really wasn't drunk, so he couldn't take advantage of the situation, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he really didn't want to; not like this. But there must be something going on, because hadn't he just had an absolutely wonderful conversation with Lupin and _two_ of the Weasley brothers? Maybe it was because they were older and more sophisticated, Draco thought to himself.

"But you don't mind?" Draco asked, hope trapped in his throat.

"Yes, I do." Harry replied, and Draco's heart sank just a little.

The song ended, and just as he was releasing Harry from his hold, Raven and Chaikovsky came over and he said, "Malfoy, can I dance the next one with you?"

Harry, of course, looked more than a little perplexed, but stepped away, immediately being pulled to the side by Raven, who asked him to dance as well. Draco looked at the Russian calculatingly. "How much punch did _you_ have?"

"What? Oh, I few glasses, why?"

"Has everyone gone mad?" Draco asked some-what seriously, and managed to catch the Weasley twins snickering over in the corner, watching as whatever they had done was affecting the people at the wedding.

"Weasley!" Draco yelled, garnering the attention of nearly everyone in attendance, stepping right past Harry and his boyfriend to the twins who were now laughing hysterically.

"Un-do it!" Draco demanded.

"Un-do what, Malfoy?" they asked in unison.

"Un-do whatever you did to make everyone so…" He uncharacteristically floundered for the right adjective.

"So cheerful?" one twin said.

"So loving?" said the other.

"So congenial that everyone's getting along just fine when we all know that most of the people here don't like you?" they said in unison.

Draco looked around and noticed that there were more than a few suspicious glances their way, but none of them were hostile, just curious as to the commotion.

"I… Well, what did you do?" he asked, genuinely curious, and purely in a text-book manner.

"Oh, one-part truth, one-part cheer, one-part amour, and one-part relaxation," they said in unison; annoyingly smart-ass grins on their faces.

"What on earth is that?" Draco asked, scanning his knowledge for something that would require parts like the ones they mentioned.

"We just thought adding something to the punch might help keep things smooth… you know?" said Fred.

"And we couldn't resist trying a new product on such a diverse demographic," said George.

"Diverse? More than half of these people are related to you!"

"And you," they said.

Draco huffed. "Oh shove off. And stop experimenting your products on unsuspecting people."

"This is just our uncontrolled test run. We have yet to test it on people who actually know what they're taking."

"Fred, George, what have you done?" Hermione said, overhearing the conversation and stomping over, placing her hands on her hips. "You haven't ruined my wedding, have you?"

Fred and George stepped forward and put their arms around Hermione, leading her away from the tents. "Of course not, new little sister," they said in a suspiciously consoling tone.

While they talked, Draco turned and saw everyone on the dance floor looking at them curiously. He gestured to everyone to go about their business, and walked over to Harry and Chaikovsky and said, "You still want that dance?"

Chaikovsky shrugged. "I did ask, didn't I?"

"Well, at least you _can_ dance."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed.

"Go dance with Raven, Harry," Draco said, and grabbed Chaikovsky by the arm, steering him to a table on the edge of the other tent and pushing him into a chair.

"Oi!"

"Shut up, Chaikovsky. Just sit here and watch your boyfriend and my girlfriend dance, okay?" Draco snapped, sitting down next to him.

"I was just trying to be nice, _Malfoy._"

"Nice? By asking me to dance? Merlin, that shit must have dumbed up people's natural sensibilities. The fact that you felt the need to be nice to me makes my skin crawl."

"It makes your skin crawl?"

"Yes. You're not supposed to be nice to me, and I'm certainly not going to be nice to you."

"You're such an ass, Malfoy."

Draco's grin was something akin to feral. "Thanks, Nancy."

* * *

"Why does everyone want to dance with me?" Harry asked, looking at the woman in his arms. 

"'Cause you're cute," Raven replied, smiling.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. I think you're cute."

"You do?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. Much cuter than me. I'm…awkward."

Raven threw back her head and laughed. "Only on the ground, love."

Harry took a chance and spun himself and Raven around in a circle, which garnered a laugh from the girl.

"I'm not so bad," Harry said after the spin, which left both of them a little dizzy.

Raven leaned heavily against him, and he tightened his arms around her, putting his face in her hair and breathing in. She smelled woodsy and spicy. In his slightly muddle-minded state, he couldn't tell if it turning him on was a bad thing or not.

"No, not so much," she replied, turning her face into his neck.

"Oh my god. Look at that," Harry said in abject mortification, looking over Raven's shoulder.

Raven turned her head and looked behind her to where Dumbledore was waltzing in large sweeping circles with Ron's Great Aunt Mildred, before twirling her and beginning to shimmy with her, looking rather like a teenager at a social.

Raven bit her lip to keep from laughing, and finally buried her face in Harry's neck to keep her laughter muffled.

"Oh, that's just so wrong," she said, and Harry had to turn his own face into her hair to hide his chuckles. They were like that for a few moments, silently holding their amusement in, before Harry asked,

"So how much punch have _you_ had?"

Raven lifted a half-bare shoulder. "A few glasses."

"How much is a few?"

"About the same few you had."

Harry smiled lazily. "Why are there so many slow songs?" he asked, puzzled.

Raven laughed again. "This song isn't actually that slow, Harry. You're just not moving fast enough."

"This is the only kind of dancing I know how to do."

"Then that's how we'll dance," Raven replied, smiling.

* * *

"They look awfully comfortable with each other," Mikhail said to Draco, who decided he did, in fact, need more of that "lovey-dovey" punch, and had _accioed_ himself a glass while he watched Raven and Harry dance. 

"They are. _Very_ comfortable," he said pointedly, throwing back half that glass at once.

"What do you mean by that?" Mikhail asked, glaring at the blonde.

"Well, Raven is a very attractive woman. I'm not sure if you noticed that, seeing as you're gay and all."

"Harry's gay too."

"No, he's not."

"He's dating me, isn't he?"

Draco resisted rolling his eyes. "He's bi, you arse. He told you so."

Mikhail frowned. "What, so is your bird trying to take Harry from me too?"

"Who said anything about anyone taking Harry from you?"

"I'm not an idiot, Malfoy. I know you fancy him."

Draco threw back his head and all but cackled. "Fancy?" Another peal of laughter burst out of Draco, and through his tears he saw Mikhail flush red with what he hoped was embarrassment.

Catching his breath he said, "I don't fancy Potter, Chaikovsky." _I love him._

"He's mine, Malfoy," Mikhail glowered.

"And I'm sure he absolutely _adores_ being kept by you like a common whore."

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Malfoy. Don't make fun of what we have, which you so obviously lack in your life."

Draco gave him an incredulous glare. "And just what might that be?"

"Are you two fighting again?" Harry said from above them, hands on his hips and an amused Raven standing next to him.

"No," both men grumbled.

"Good." Harry then plopped down on Mikhail's lap and kissed him. "Having fun?"

"I am now that you're here."

Raven sat on Draco's lap and gave him a consoling kiss on the cheek. "How's it going, love?"

"Oh, peachy. You?"

Raven smiled. "Ditto."

Draco looked past Raven's shoulder, and saw something he was looking for. "Oh – there's the bride, back from her tirade with the horror twins. I'm going to go ask her to dance before I forget. I'll be back in a little while, love."

"Have fun," Raven said, standing and going off to get some food.

* * *

"Oi! Granger!" 

Hermione stopped in her tracks, then slowly turned around. "What, Malfoy? And you know that's not my name anymore, right?"

Draco grinned. "Just wondered if you'd still respond." He dipped down in a mid-bow. "Hermione, would you care to dance?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but put her hand in his outstretched one. "As long as you don't try anything."

Draco was mock-scandalized. "Like I would ever steal another man's wife."

Hermione smiled, and they went to the dance floor, where the lanterns grew brighter as the night's darkness cocooned them in. Draco took her in his arms in a classic hold and then began the pleasant waltz that had just started.

"I must say, you do look rather ravishing. Hear my parents turning over in their graves," he added sardonically.

Hermione giggled. "Thank you, Malfoy. Are you enjoying yourself? I must say, I was a little worried when Ron drunkenly decided to invite you. I wasn't sure how that would go down with his family."

Draco shrugged. "It looks like whatever the twins did to the punch paid off, I suppose."

Scowling, Hermione said, "Yes, well, at least it wasn't worse. They really can cause the most havoc. This doesn't actually seem to be a joke, though…I wonder how they're going to market it?"

"Oh, you could easily slip it into a teacher's pumpkin juice and persuade them to give you good marks, or perhaps convince your boss that he really, really likes you and should give you a raise or promotion… really, if anyone's in a good enough mood, they're likely to do anything for you."

Hermione looked horrified. "Sometimes I still wonder why the twins weren't in Slytherin."

Draco grinned. "Still too bloody noble."

Hermione looked at Draco thoughtfully. "You're not so bad, Malfoy."

"You're not so bad yourself, Mrs. Weasley." He scrunched up his nose. "I think I'll actually have to resort to calling you by your given name. That just sounds so wrong."

Laughing, the bride said, "Well, it beats 'Granger' or 'Mudblood'."

Draco smiled. "That it does. Congratulations, Hermione."

"Thank you, Draco."

* * *

It was now nearing midnight, and the party had been going fairly strong until about a half-hour ago, when people started falling asleep in their chairs, or saying their farewells and good wishes and Apparating home. 

The Weasley family was picking up the remnants of the party, with the help of a few straggling friends. Draco and Raven lit out a few minutes ago, seeing as they had to head to Wiltshire in the morning. Harry was resting peacefully in his chair, his head cradled in his arms, while Mikhail helped pick up a bit before kissing his sleeping boyfriend on the head and going home, whispering that he'd see him in a few days. The only indication Harry might have heard him was a sleepy murmur and a shift of his head.

Ron and Hermione were sharing one last dance, before they'd get some rest and Apparate to Greece the next day. The music was a slow, soft tune, and they stood very close together, Hermione's head resting on Ron's shoulder, her left hand cradled in his right, turning in a nearly non-existent circle.

"It went fairly well, I think," said Ron, kissing Hermione's braided hair.

"I think so too, considering your brothers," Hermione murmured quietly.

"And Malfoy."

"Yes. You know, he's decided to actually call me Hermione."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well, isn't that interesting. His girl told me I was 'all right' while we were dancing earlier."

"Draco said the same to me."

"Curious, that."

"Not so much. They're probably just trying to be friends with Harry's friends. Draco was over a lot more recently. And we all got along with all the Slytherins last night."

"True, that."

Hermione lifted her head. "I love you, Ronald Weasley."

Ron smiled. "I love you too, Hermione Weasley."

Hermione snickered. "That does sound a little funny, doesn't it?"

Ron frowned. "Yeah, a bit. Mrs. Hermione Weasley. Ugh, we should hyphenate it to Hermione Granger-Weasley. The other way, you sound like my mum."

Hermione laughed; a tinkling, joyful sound that rang out through the tent and into the darkened night beyond; covered by a noiseless blanket of pure-white snow.

* * *

1. In love, in trust, in magic, I bind thee. 

2. Through your love, through your trust, through your words, I bind thee.

* * *

_A/N: Okay! So - how'd you like it:D I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, even though it took me forever. lol There was a lot going on in this chapter...I hope you guys caught everything. I know there was a lot of dancing, but really, it was just a prop for the conversations. In between all the merry and eating, I mean. :) Anyhow, again, I'm sorry it took so long... I was waiting for my site to be finished before I posted anything... So if you want to be the first to get updates, please sign up for my mailing list! (It's on my site, which is on my user page.) Thanks! I'll be working on "Original Sinn" here for a bit, so there may not be a next chapter of "The Bet" for a while...I'm hoping it won't be too long, though, but RL has brought with it some changes, both really good and somewhat bad, so I do have to deal with that as well. So no begging for new chapters. I won't listen._

_P.S. I'm sorry for not directly responding to most of everyone's reviews. I feel horrible - I'm usually pretty good at doing that, but my life has just been so crazy lately. In the good way, mostly, but I just keep finding myself falling behind in some things... _


	31. A Chaikovsky Christmas

**Author's Notes:** I can't even BEGIN to say how sorry I am that it's been so long since I updated, but I am. Writer's block and Real Life are a bitch sometimes, and this round, I was it's whore. Things have finally settled down (after a year) and so I feel more confident about writing again! I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter...there may be a part here and there that some might not like, but I think the whole chapter, overall, is entertaining. :D

I never could have done it without **IcyAurora**, **Michelle**, and **Lunadragon**, my betas. **Keesa13 **deserves cookies, for she helped me with the Russian. And to all of you, for being so damn patient with me. I love you all.

**P.S. I had to do some chopping and massacring of parts of this chapter. The FULL version can ALWAYS be found at my website.**

* * *

**Chapter XXIX – A Chaikovsky Christmas**

* * *

_22nd December 2003_

_I went to Weasley's wedding today. It was an intere__sting affair; certainly not garish and prosaic, like many other weddings I went to as a child. Weasley didn't mess up like I was so hoping he would. His vows, while a little bumbling and long, were heartfelt, and I think that made all the difference in the world to Granger, who apparently ditched her well-rehearsed vows as well in response._

_Except that I can't call her that anymore. She's a certified Weasley now._

_The world around me is changing__: Grangers are becoming Weasleys, Dumbledore is actually an old man now, I actually tried to curb a Weasley Twin disaster at the wedding, and I've fallen for Harry Potter._

_This is not new __information of course, but I wish there could be more to it. Like that he's fallen for me too._

_That's unlikely to happen with Chaikovsky __hanging all over him._

_Seeing the Granger-Weasley pair so happy made me wonder if I will be __as happy at my wedding. Raven would be absolutely gorgeous, I know this. She would glow like no other bride could. Everything would be flawless; except for one thing. The dark-haired shadow in the back of the crowd._

_I would marry him too, if I could. But that would be selfish, wouldn't it? I am selfish._

_I remember thinking the same thing about myself when Mother died. I kept thinking about my pain; about how I couldn't live without my mum…and then about her smell, and her chocolate packages, and that rare smile that I believed only I could see; the kiss in the corner of her mouth, like Wendy in Peter Pan. Don't ask how I know that._

_And I remember thinking that Raven had to be the most unselfish person in the world to risk her life to come see me._

* * *

She was trembling with fear as she knelt before her Lord.

"You are here to ask something of your Lord?" The Dark Lord said, with nothing short of controlled calculation and barely controlled disdain.

"I thank you for granting me audience, my Lord."

"You have been valuable in your place. You risk your discovery and my wrath for coming here. Why?"

"It is…winter holiday, my Lord," she mumbled, trying to excuse her behaviour with frantic yet detached words.

"Is that an excuse?" her Lord asked with more than a hint of disgust.

"No! No, my Lord," she spoke more clearly. "I must see him, my Lord. Draco Malfoy."

The Dark Lord's exhaled breath sounded like a snarl in her ears. "You _must_, then?"

She dare not look up. She might fall apart if she did.

"You should just kill her and be over with it," Bellatrix Lestrange said from the wall. "She obviously cares for my nephew more than you, my Lord."

"Silence, Bella," The Dark Lord hissed. The sallow woman flinched slightly, but otherwise, gave no indication of disquietude.

"His mother's untimely death has reached your secluded ears, then," The Dark Lord directed at the girl in front of him.

"I was in Severus Snape's company when he received the news. I asked for immediate audience with you, my Lord."

"You love the boy then?"

Raven lowered her eyes further, trying to hide behind her long hair, unsure how to portray such fleeting teenage feelings, while knowing they were real. She said tentatively, "I care for him, yes. My Lord -"

Voldemort slid from his chair and brought Raven to her feet with the tip of his wand on her chin.

"Love makes you weak, young child."

"I do not know his love, my Lord," she replied truthfully, not able to meet his red gaze.

Voldemort flicked up her chin, and her eyes caught his, narrowed in deeper disgust. "Your _love_," he spat, his lip curling in disdain, "is nevertheless, still a weakness."

"I am sorry, my Lord." She wouldn't, _couldn't_, cry.

"Do you wish to bear his children? You are of age."

Raven averted her eyes for a split second. "If you wish it, my Lord," she said, trying not to show her trembling at his close and cold proximity.

"I do."

He released her and she fell to the ground, not even realising that he had held her there.

"Severus, take her to the Malfoy Estate. Make sure she is not gone long enough to arouse suspicion."

Snape bowed shortly. "Yes, my Lord." Raven rose, barely catching her feet before Snape grabbed her by the collar, yanking her onward.

Once beyond the fortress walls, Snape hissed, "You are supremely lucky to have left without a curse cast upon you. The Dark Lord hates the idea of love more than any other."

Raven looked up at her mentor. "How can he hate without love? Can one exist without the other?" she asked simply, musing aloud as if the question merely puzzled her.

Snape stopped them both on a sloping curve of moonlit grass. "Your stupid, childish ideals will kill you someday, Miss Harrell. Realise that the Dark Lord only wishes you to breed with a pureblood for the sole purpose of gaining followers, slaves that he can mould from birth."

"You sound like you don't agree with what the Lord wishes."

His eyes narrowed to searing slits on his sallow face. "You would be well-advised not to question my loyalties, Harrell. I am well aware of what the wishes of the Dark Lord are, and am not blind to their consequences. Remember that before you ask to seek council with him again." His grip on her arm tightened, and in a turn and a gesture, they Disapparated.

Raven found herself in a burning village, screams of pain and fright piercing her ears. She looked up to the man holding her arm and found Blaise, eyes narrowed and jaw tight at the sight before him, the garish green glow on his pale skin making him look sickly and ghoulish.

"What? How did we get here? Blaise? Where are we?"

He looked down at her, angry. "What do you mean? Put your damn mask on," he demanded as he flipped down his. "We have to find Draco."

"Draco? What?" she asked, horrified at seeing a Death Eater mask upon her friend's face. But Blaise didn't answer; he rushed out ahead, pushing terrified villagers out of his way.

Raven blinked rapidly and rushed forward herself, trying to push her way through, until a man caught her and said, "You! I _see_ your face, girl. I'll remember you! I'll be the one to point to you in front of the Wizengamot and tell them all that you're a _murderer_!"

Raven gasped, her gut caught in her throat and threatening to spill out. The man's grip on her shoulders was like dull little vices in her flesh. Then there was a flash of green and the man dropped from in front of her. Raven looked up to see a Death Eater with his wand drawn, pointed precisely in her direction. She stared in complete shock.

"Raven!"

She heard the desperate, frightened cry behind her, and whipping around, she found herself in the middle of a crowded Muggle street. The day was bright and warm. There was a blaring of a car horn, so close and so loud her body shook, and then there was blackness. When she opened her eyes, she was looking down at the man from the village that had grabbed her. His lifeless eyes were shiny in the green of the traffic light and blood pooled around his body like a blanket.

She woke gasping, trying desperately to recognise her surroundings, the morning light grey through the curtains.

* * *

"I don't know what to do, Neville. I wish I hadn't have waited so long to go Christmas shopping."

Harry and Neville were walking through Diagon Alley, or rather, being slowly churned into it by all the last-minute shoppers bustling and pushing and shoving their way in and out of stores, three days before the holiday.

"Harry, don't be so hard on yourself," Neville grunted as he pushed his way past a crowd gathering at The Cauldron Shoppe, where they were having a 'BUY A 14-inch CAULDRON, GET AN 8-inch FREE' sale. "I'm here with you, aren't I? I mean, it's a little hard to top an engagement ring, isn't it?" Neville chuckled. "We'll both figure something out, don't worry."

"Yeah, but you could get Luna anything, and she'd think it was fantastic. I've never had to buy something for someone I'm dating before, let alone a _boyfriend_. I'm not even sure what he has and what he doesn't."

"He's so infatuated with you I think anything you get him would be just fine, Harry."

They pushed their way past a crowd in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium and found an empty alcove to stand in, where they weren't yelling over other people's shouts.

Harry shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. "That sounds like something Draco would say," he said darkly, giving Neville a sour look.

Neville huddled into his cloak. "You mad at him or something?"

"Who, Draco?" Harry asked.

Neville nodded. "What other sarcastic prat do we know?" he said, smiling.

Harry blinked. "No, I'm not mad at him. Things are just...complicated."

"I suppose things always are," Neville replied. Shivering, he looked around the crowded street. "How about you get him something from QQS?"

Harry glanced across the street and saw Quality Quidditch Supplies, just as busy as everywhere else, with little kids' faces plastered against the window, staring bright-eyed at the latest broom model.

Scrunching up his nose, he said, "I don't think he needs another polishing set. He's probably already got a few of them."

"What about Magical Menagerie? Maybe you could get him a cat."

"He doesn't seem like the cat type. Maybe a dog..."

"Then get him one."

"I don't know if his flat allows pets."

"You're making this kinda difficult, Harry." At Harry's grumpy expression, Neville mollified him with a quick, "Let's just go to QQS and see if there's a book on Quidditch or something he might like. It's freezing out here anyhow, and looks like it might snow."

"It hardly ever snows in London," Harry replied as he followed Neville back into the throng.

"It hardly ever snows at the Burrow, either, but it did yesterday."

"Good point."

After pushing their way past excited children and impatient parents, they found themselves shivering from the sudden warmth inside Quality Quidditch Supplies. They huddled in a corner by the door for a moment, surveying the crowded shoppe, and Harry took off his glasses as they fogged over. He blinked owlishly at the blurry figures around him and quickly wiped off his lenses with his shirt.

"There!" Neville said, pointing to some stacks along the opposite wall. "It looks like the books are over there."

Harry grunted and proceeded to push his way to the other side of the store while Neville followed dutifully behind.

Once at the stacks, they spent most of their time pressed tightly against them, as they were near the pay counter, so all Harry could see were the books on the shelf directly in front of his nose: _Snitches and the Seekers Who Love Them_ by Prof. Thackery Snidge,_ Quidditch or Quodpot? A Fool's Dilemma_ by Nigel Niggleweather, _Seekers and the Snitches Who Love Them_ by Prof. Thackery Snidge, and _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ a Quality Quidditch Supplies Shoppe Exclusive.

_Snitches and the Seekers Who Love Them?_ Harry pondered. What was that professor on? It sounded like psychology hooblyjib to him.

"How about _Which Snitch? A Seeker's Guide to the Golden Snitch_?" Neville asked, looking over at Harry from his own shelf of books.

"That'd be a great book for me, but not him. He's a Chaser."

"But he's Captain too. Shouldn't he know all there is to know about Quidditch?"

Harry smirked. "He probably already does. Alright. I want to keep looking, but keep your eye on that one."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Neville replied, then pointedly kept a watch on that book, even glaring at a woman who went to grab another book off the same shelf as she stood in line to pay.

Getting a little tired of being nose to nose with a bookcase, Harry started nudging himself back, step by step. The wizard behind him huffed a little and muttered, 'How rude!' under his breath, but Harry ignored him and gathered a little of his magic to act as a small bubble around him, giving himself a bit more breathing room. He could hear the people behind him protesting, but then someone mentioned 'Harry Potter' as he looked over to Neville, who was still a bit pressed for space, and suddenly, room was created for him. A whisper of his name spread out through the store, and an eerie quiet came over its patrons.

_Great,_ thought Harry. _Any minute now, someone's going to come up and say-_

"Harry Potter! What a pleasure to see you here!" A wizened witch greeted. She was adorned in a Quidditch referee outfit bearing the Quality Quidditch Supplies logo and dangling Snitch earrings.

_- Not that._

"Er..."

"How can we help you today?" the witch said to him, smiling brightly.

A voice rang out in the strange quiet. "Why are you helping _him_? He's a _queer_." The voice belonged to a witch with two small kids in tow. She shot Harry a scathing look and turned her children's eyes away, like he was a leper and she was afraid they might catch something just by looking at him.

Harry stared blankly at her for a moment; wishing words would come to his lips. Before he could say anything though, the QQS witch turned and said tartly, "Well, that comment's not with the Christmas spirit!"

"If you're going to help people like _him_, I think I'll take my business elsewhere." And she moved to leave.

"You, apparently, don't remember what Harry did for you, do you? For all of us," Neville's voice rang out.

"Neville, you don't have to-"

"No, Harry. These people have no right look down at you. I know you don't like being remembered for killing Voldemort, and being the Boy-Who-Lived, but that's who you are, Harry. And who you love is a part of that too." Neville turned to the crowd in the store. "You may not like that Harry likes blokes, but it's a part of who he is. If you can praise him and accept him as the Chosen One, then you have to respect that he's a person too, and what he does with his life, _after saving all of yours, _is none of your business." His voice was calm and assured; softly challenging, but quietly imploring understanding.

The woman looked slightly reproachful, for just a moment, before resuming the sneer that marred her face before. "That may be. Just don't come near me or mine," the woman said to Harry.

Scowling, Harry replied, "Like I even know who you are."

Neville started forward, looking to put someone in between Harry and the socially challenged wench. "Let's not fight. It's Christmas."

"Yes, let's just go about our _own_ business," Harry said, still looking at the woman. As he turned around to look at the books, he mentioned over his shoulder, "By the way, I'm not _queer_. I like girls just as much as I like guys. Not that it's anyone's sodding business."

The bell over the door rang as a few people filed out of the store, and suddenly, there was noise and motion spreading, whispers and hesitant transactions. A few people muttered 'rude' as they passed by and Harry disregarded them. He was tired of being the perfect hero. They'd think about him whatever they wanted. They always had.

The QQS witch came up to his shoulder and patted it gently. "It's an unfortunate fact of life that you'll never be accepted for you who truly are. Not by everyone."

Harry smiled tightly. "Well, thankfully, I don't need everyone to live my life."

The older witch smiled knowingly. "Well, then let's find a gift for the ones that you do need."

A half-hour later, Harry walked out of Quality Quidditch Supplies with what he hoped would be a suitable gift for Mikhail. Both the QQS witch and Neville seemed to think so.

"So, where to for Luna?" Harry asked his friend.

Neville eyed the bustling street. "I have no idea." He noticed that people were staring at Harry, whispering as they passed by, and a few even tried to give as wide a berth as they could in the crowded corridor. Harry dutifully ignored them all.

"How about one of the street vendors? There's likely to be a trinket or something that Luna will mistake for a charm to ward off another of her non-existent creatures."

Neville shot Harry a look. "She's gotten much better about that sort of thing, you know."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I know. I'm just taking the piss."

"Well, let's get movin', I suppose," Neville said, pushing himself between two wizards to move down the street. Shrinking his gift and tucking it in his pocket, Harry followed.

They came across a street vendor wedged in front of Magical Menagerie that had various trinkets from around the world and charms to speak several languages. Harry thought the prices a bit high, but with it being so close to Christmas, he couldn't blame the vendor trying to get a few extra knuts in.

Neville fingered a remembrall and smiled fondly at the memory of the one his Gran gave him. "I doubt Luna'd ever need one of these," he mused.

"How about this?" Harry asked, holding up a necklace with a sort of compass-dial hanging off the chain and weird symbols on the face of it.

"What does it do?" Neville replied.

The vendor, a wizened old man, perked up and turned on the mysterious charm. "Ah, this, my lads, I found on my travels in Egypt." He took the charm from Harry and wriggled his knobbly fingers in the air. "To any old Muggle, it'd be no more than an ancient compass. But no, my friends! It so happens that it points to an ancient treasure!" He fondled the trinket with reverence.

Neville and Harry shared a look. Turning back to the old man, Harry asked, "If it leads to a treasure, then why are you selling it?"

The old man gave Harry an evil eye. "If do not wish to believe the tale, then begone with you! I have many other people to service, here, lad."

The men looked behind them. No one else was approaching the old vendor's cart besides them. Harry turned back to the man and said, playing along, "Well, what's the tale, then?"

Calculatingly, the vendor replied, "The treasure is not a material trifle that can be bought or sold for galleons, boy. Half the treasure is the journey to find it!" He eyed Neville. "You are looking for something for a loved one, yes?"

"Er...yeah," he stammered, glancing to Harry nervously.

"A wife? A lover? A brother? A mother?"

"My fiancée," Neville replied.

"Ah...is she an adventurous sort?"

Harry chuckled. "That could be one description."

"Then perhaps this compass could be of interest to the both of you. An adventure for your honeymoon, perhaps? Or perhaps this?" he suggested, setting down the compass and picking up another necklace. This one had a bright blue jewel encased in silver - a locket, actually, as Harry looked closer - and behind the jewel was a script of some kind, distorted and warped by the shape of the stone over it.

"Does it do anything?" Neville asked.

The old man looked somewhat exasperated, as if speaking with someone who always asked the obvious. "Well, it's a locket, so I imagine it opens, boy."

"You haven't tried opening it, yet?" Harry asked.

"Of course I've tried. It's a puzzle locket. First, you must figure out how it opens, then, you must decipher the coded text inside. I daresay another map of adventure is inside!" he proclaimed loudly, causing a few passers by to look over, startled.

"May I take a closer look?" Neville asked, holding out his hand.

The old vendor looked wary, but placed the locket in Neville's palm. "It's heavy," was Neville's comment. Looking up at Harry he asked, "What do you think? Do you think she'd like it?"

Harry made a little shrug. "Like I said, I think she'd love anything you got her. But maybe she'd have fun sitting there trying to figure it out," he replied with a smile.

"Yeah," Neville said, more to himself. "Yeah, I think she'd like that. How much?" he asked the vendor.

The glint in the old man's eyes made Harry flinch inside. "Fifteen Galleons."

"Fifteen!" Neville exclaimed.

"That's ludicrous," Harry commented.

The old man went to snatch the locket out of Neville's hands, but the younger man stepped back. "Well, I've got to make a living, boy! You can't put a price on love!"

"Seven Galleons," Harry said.

"Ha!" The man barked. As he reached again for the locket, he said, "You shouldn't be cheap, boy! Isn't your girl worth everything in the world?"

"Well, of course she is!" Neville replied. "But I can't afford that much."

"Then give me back my locket!"

"Ten Galleons!" Harry called out. Goodness, they were making a scene.

The wrinkled vendor paused in his reaching, leaning far over his folding table of trinkets. He looked between Harry and Neville and back again.

"Can you do ten Galleons, boy?"

"I..."

"I'll help, Neville," Harry offered.

"No, I couldn't, Harry. It's for Luna."

"You can pay me back later. You still have that job in the Herbology department, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, you can pay me back."

Neville hesitated but said, "Alright. But I'm paying you back right after the hols, okay?"

Harry nodded once. "Okay."

They split the bill between them and parted ways with the strange old vendor.

"Do you really think she'll like it, Harry?"

"I really do, Neville. You shouldn't have second thoughts. It's...Luna."

"Yeah, it is pretty, isn't it?" Neville said, taking it out of his pocket and looking at it again. "It's got a puzzle and it's functional, once she can open it," he chuckled.

They continued to squeeze their way back through the crowd in Diagon Alley, getting pushed and pulled. Harry swore he felt someone grope his bum as he wedged through all the people. He looked behind him as he moved, and only saw robes and shopping bags.

Once free of the muck, Harry and Neville took the brick wall out of the alley and into an also crowded Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, so much for stopping for a warm butterbeer," Harry said. "I should probably get back to campus anyhow. I've got to pack still." They moved through the chairs and barstools and stepped outside into the chilly wet air of Muggle London.

"Where does Mikhail live again?"

"Yorkshire. But then I'm going to Wiltshire to Malfoy Manor for New Years."

"Wow, Malfoy's actually going back to that place?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised myself. But he says he needs to get the affairs of the Manor in order, or he'll never be rid of it." Harry took out his wand and flicked it in the air.

"He's going to sell it huh?" Neville said over the loud _whoosh_ of the Knight Bus arriving with a screeching halt two inches from their noses.

"Where'll it be?" The conductor said in a twangy drawl.

"Magic University Campus, please," said Harry as he stepped up onto the first level of the bus, Neville following him.

"That'll be eight Sickles and a Galleon for each of ya."

"Merlin, I'm going to go broke for Luna," Neville said as he handed out a few coins.

"But she's worth it, isn't she?" Harry said as he paid his own fare.

"Of course," Neville said wistfully, a small smile on his face that vanished into surprise as the Knight Bus took off and they were thrown back into two large, poufy chairs.

"To answer your question, I'm not sure what Draco's going to do with the Manor," Harry said between clenched teeth as the bus took a sharp turn. "I imagine it doesn't have many happy memories anymore."

"Yeah, you're right."

They nearly flew out of their seats when the bus came to an abrupt stop, right in the middle of the courtyard of the campus proper.

Harry muttered a "thanks" as they made their way off the bus, feet barely touching the grass before the Knight Bus was off again in _whoosh_ of chilly December air. They walked across the courtyard and into Number One.

"Well, I'd better go wrap these up. I'm leaving for Yorkshire tomorrow morning," Harry said as they climbed the stairs.

"You nervous? About meeting Mikhail's family, I mean."

"More than I'd care to think about," he said, stepping onto the landing.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it, Harry. At least you don't have to deal with my Grandmum's plans for our wedding."

"Good luck with that."

"You too. Not that you need it. See you after the hols, Harry. Have a Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Neville."

* * *

The carriage was toasty despite the dreary weather outside. The clouds where dark and filled with rain, and this far south, the little bit of snow Wiltshire had already acquired was melting away quickly under the onslaught of water from the sky.

Even in the gloom, though, Wiltshire never looked more beautiful. While the leaves were mostly gone this time of year, there was a strange light in the air, as in an old photograph, when the paper turns yellow with age.

"It looks so surreal," Raven commented from his left, effectively voicing his thoughts. He turned to watch her looking out the carriage window, her black hair wisping away from her face as the light breeze filtering in from the window, cracked open at the top to let some of the stuffy air out of the cabin.

"It does," he agreed, and turned back to his own window, watching the forest with a sort of detached dread.

He didn't want to be here, in Wiltshire, on his way to Malfoy Manor, but it had to be done. He'd much rather Harry be here too, he thought, whipping around the pitch on their brooms, playing a pick-up game of Catch the Snitch, or lying on his bed, relaxing and talking about nothing in particular.

He wrinkled his nose. When did he get so damn soppy? Fucking Gryffindors.

He reached over and took Raven's gloved hand from her lap, twining his fingers with hers. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, but he could not relax. Turning a bend, he saw the Manor's iron gates just ahead, ivy crawling over wrought-iron bars. Even from here he could tell the Malfoy Crest was dull and corrupted from the vines growing over it.

He sighed. Even though there was a house-elf or two up-keeping the Manor, he supposed there was only so much you could do without the bidding of your masters. The wood could only get so polished until you had to wait for it to get dusty again.

The carriage stopped just shy of the gate. Draco squeezed Raven's hand one last time before stepping out of cabin into an inch of soft, wet earth. Looking down in distaste, he looked back at the trodden, unkempt narrow path that led to the Manor. He supposed it didn't surprise him that the lack of traffic had kept the road from being packed down and the grass from not overgrowing. The tracks of their carriage were deep grooves in the mud that lined the tire tracks of the road.

Turning, he walked up to the gates, looking up at the Manor from between the bars. It was tall and looming, a dark smear on an ever-darkening sky. The coolness of the winter air brushed over Draco's cheeks as he tried desperately to think of anything else besides the memories that kept coming to the fore of his mind as he looked at his childhood home. Taking out his wand, he cast a key-charm directly at the Malfoy crest in front of him. The crest glowed as it registered him as the owner, and with a great, shuddering creak that hurt his ears, the gate swung, opening before him.

He returned to the carriage and signalled the driver-less carriage forward. As they lurched up the drive to the cobblestone park, he heard the gates closing behind them and gritted his teeth against the sound.

The Manor sat at a perpendicular angle to the gates, up on a slight slope, probably as to seem more intimidating. Draco wasn't sure it would matter where the house was situated; it would always look like it was looming above you.

It wasn't that the Manor was a decrepit old house, falling apart after years of disuse. No, nothing quite like that. He'd seen Grimmauld place once; the home of his cousins was worse than a plague on the Black name. The Manor _was_ dour; made of rough, dark stone. It was a three-story affair that stretched out on each side from the front door in sprawling wings. Pansy once told him it looked more like a hotel, with the uniform windows on the top two floors, and larger ones in the dining and parlour rooms on the first floor. It did have that air, he would agree now, watching as a light behind the stained glass-inlaid doors sprang to life – and then suddenly the Manor didn't look quite so depressing. But that didn't assuage his fears of stepping foot here again.

Having charmed his shoes clean, he stepped out of the carriage again and turned to hold out a hand to Raven, who gathered her skirts and descended from the cabin with the air of a lady returning home.

"It's been a very long time, since I was here last," she said, looking up at the silent stone and dark windows, holding so many secrets.

Draco folded her arm in his and guided her towards the door. "I'm still trying to decide if it's been long enough," he replied.

* * *

Harry fiddled nervously with the charm around his neck. He wasn't any closer to understanding its true meaning, and for now, it was just a decoration. That he never took off. It got so taking it off for a shower even made him a little nervous, but Harry was unwilling to admit that he had a strange attachment to the thing.

He was sitting in the living room near the window, watching the snow fall in silent flakes to the ground. The campus was covered in a light blanket of the white confection, and Harry yearned to go out and play like so many times he wished he could as a child. But he was waiting. For Mikhail.

A few moments ago, Draco and Raven had been by, wishing him a Happy Christmas and that they'd see him for New Years at the Manor. Raven had given him a hug and a light peck on the mouth, telling Harry he looked handsome in his nicer slacks and button-down shirt – an ensemble he finally decided on, sans robes – for his first meeting with Mikhail's family.

And she had looked so pretty with her hair pulled back from her face, falling in ringlets down her back. She had a black hat atop her head, and wore a dark blue dress made of heavy fabric that felt stiff under Harry's fingers as he held her back. She sort of reminded him of pictures of Muggles from the previous turn of the century he once saw, and her cold-reddened cheeks made her look like Snow White.

Draco had stood in front of Harry, nothing on his face betraying his thoughts. They were all standing on the porch, and Raven turned around and went down the first step, most likely to give Draco the privacy he needed to hesitantly brush his fingers across Harry's cheek before saying, "Goodbye." Harry bit his lip but said, "Good luck," and then Draco and Raven were gone.

Sighing deeply, Harry almost missed the tall wizard Apparating onto the grounds because of the fog his breath made on the window. Then he saw him, and jumped up to answer the door before the man had even knocked.

Mikhail's hand was poised in a light fist, ready to rap upon the white door of Number One when Harry flung open the door, breathless.

"Hi!" Mikhail said brightly, a bit startled.

Harry stepped back a half-step, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I've just been ready for hours, and was starting to get a little antsy."

Mikhail took out his pocket watch. "Am I late?"

"No, no, I just didn't have anything to do for the last two days but get ready to go to your parents' place, and I'm a light packer, so..."

Mikhail chuckled and took a hold of Harry's face and kissed his mouth. "You are absolutely adorable when you babble."

"Gee...thanks." Harry said with a lopsided grin.

"Well, I guess I don't need to ask if you're ready to go," Mikhail joked.

Harry chuckled. "Nope. My trunk is already in my pocket."

Mikhail held out his hand. "Shall we go then?"

Harry slipped on his jacket and stepped out from the dorm, closing the door behind him. He took Mikhail's hand and pressed up against his boyfriend. "Yes."

Mikhail pressed his lips to Harry's and spun them in a circle, and with a crack, they were in a different county.

Harry looked up and saw a large house framed by two magnificent oak trees. Everything was covered in a light blanket of snow, and in the chill air, Harry shivered a bit in Mikhail's arms. The Chaikovsky house was two stories tall, in traditional half-timbered style; dark brown accents against white, and a bright red door. It had a long parkway, and Harry could see a dirt road leading to the house winding off in the distance. The only hint that the structure housed a Wizarding family was the presence of real fairy lights glowing in glass bubbles floating all around the exterior of the house, and even a few kept in jars placed on the staircase.

"Come on, let's get out of the cold," Mikhail said, taking Harry's hand and leading him up the stairs and into the house.

A cacophony of noise hit Harry as the large door opened and they stepped inside. Harry's glasses fogged over for a moment, while he heard Mikhail say, "Mama! Papa! We're home!"

"Oh, fantastic!" Harry heard a woman shriek as he wiped the condensation off of his lenses with his shirt, and shoved the spectacles back on his nose just as a great shuffling of footsteps came from the back of the house.

A tall but curvy woman came into view, her dark hair up in a bun, wearing fitted robes of deep magenta, a delighted smile on her face. "Oh, Mikhail!" she exclaimed, as about six people crowded into the foyer behind her. Turning to Harry she said, "And this must be the 'Harry' we keep hearing _so_ much about." She shot a smirk in Mikhail's direction. Holding out a hand, she introduced herself as "Anastasiya LeonidovnaChaikovskaia," and while Harry tried to digest that, he shook her hand and replied, "Pleased to meet you," and the women standing behind her squealed, whispering in fast Russian to each other.

Mikhail took the reins at that point and gestured to his father, who was standing in the back of the group with a snifter of brandy. "You already know my father, Stanislav."

"Pleasure to see you again, Harry," he said, lifting his glass in salute. Harry nodded in return.

"This is my Uncle Dmytro, and my Aunt Katya. She's my mother's sister." He gestured to a slightly rotund fair-haired man with glasses and an auburn-haired small woman, her hair in a clasp at the crown of her head.

"And vat a pleasure it is to meet za famous Harry Potter!" Dmytro said in a heavy accent, pumping Harry's hand up and down, while Mikhail said, "Uncle!" in a scandalised voice.

"Oh, hush, Mik," Katya said, lightly shaking Harry's hand. "He is just excited," she said in quiet tones.

Pointing to a tall, dark-blonde man, Mikhail said, "That's my cousin, Nikolai...he's a few years younger than you-"

"But still old enough to drink!" Nikolai said as he knocked back a bit of something clear.

"He's been in America for the last few years," Mikhail said in Harry's ear. "So he's happy that he can finally drink whenever, wherever, because you can't drink until you're twenty-one over there, regardless of where you were born." He smirked at his cousin.

"Oh, can we get on with the introductions already, so we can get Harry drunk enough to make him spill all his secrets?" a tall blonde woman whinged with a slight accent, pushing herself forward and presenting her hand. "Michaela," she said, smiling. She pronounced it 'meek-SHAY-la'. "Otherwise known as Mik's wiser, older cousin."

"More like annoying and meddling," Mikhail snorted, winking at Harry.

"Nice to meet you," Harry replied.

"You know, just because I'm the middle child, does _not_ mean you can just ignore me or save me for last!" the final girl said, tossing her long auburn hair over her shoulder.

"This brat is Ana, named after my mother. And as she said, she's the middle child. In fact, I think she's as old as you, Harry."

"Try _older_, cuz," she rolled her eyes before leaping forward and giving Harry a big hug. "My birthday's in April," she said in his ear. "Welcome to the family."

"Er...thanks," Harry muttered, returning the hug lightly.

"Ana, get off of him. He hasn't even had a chance to get settled in yet."

"You're right!" Mikhail's mother said. She took Harry's arm and looped hers through it. "Come, Harry, I've got a room all set up for you. You'll be bunking with Nikolai."

"Nikolai?" Mikhail said, with a rather interesting question lingering in the air.

His mother looked over her shoulder and with a laughing 'I know what you're thinking, son, and I'll not have it in my house' look, she said, "Of course, love. With Nikolai. They're closer in age."

Mikhail's look said, 'But he's _my_ boyfriend!' He even opened his mouth to sputter a bit. It went completely ignored.

"Does this mean Mikhail has to bunk with Mykhailo?" Nikolai asked. "Oh...Mykhailo's gonna be so pissed..."

"Like hell if I'm gonna let that stuck up piece of-"

"Mikhail! Why don't you get settled and have a glass of firewhisky with us, son?" Stanislav said, pulling his son past the staircase and into the kitchen on the right, with Dmytro, Katya and Nikolai trailing behind.

Anastasiya started up the stairs with Harry in tow. He heard the other two girls tromping up the stairs behind them, speaking in fast Russian again. Where was a translation spell when you needed one? On second thought, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what they were saying. Because it was sure to be about him.

At the top of the stairs, the hallway went in an east-west configuration, and they took a right, going above the kitchen. There were five doors in this part of the hall, and Anastasiya led him to the second one on the right.

"This is one of the guest rooms. It seems odd to have so many rooms in a one-child home, but we always knew we'd be hosting family and friends, and wanted a nice place for them to stay."

The room had two twin beds, one closet, and a desk with a chair. The room was decorated in cream and dark blue, with heavy tapestries on the window.

"The closet has an enlargement charm on it; so don't worry about taking up too much space, because Nikolai certainly doesn't." She smiled. "I believe Nikolai's taking the bed on the left, but I'm sure you guys can figure something out. The bathroom's just across the hall on the left. There is another, larger guest room at the end of the hall, and a closet next to the stairs. Mikhail's room is in the corner across the hall. Our rooms and a few more guest rooms are in the other wing. There's also a bathroom below near the stairs as well. Please feel free to treat our home as your home. You are always welcome here." She patted his arm and walked to the door. "I'll leave you to unpack. Please join us when you're finished. Girls?"

Michaela said, "I think we'll keep Harry here company."

"Yep," Ana said, smiling and nodding.

"Do call if you need any _help_, Harry," Anastasiya said with a smirk, before closing the door behind her.

"So! Harry – do you love my cousin?" Ana jumped right in, flopping on Nikolai's bed.

Harry had his hand in his pocket, his hold on his trunk going slack in shock. "Erm...what?"

"Oh, Ana, honestly. You can't just come at him like that. Look at the poor boy. I think he thinks he has been locked in here with nundus." Michaela sat down next to her sister. "Do not worry, Harry. We're just being nosy family members."

"Oh. Well, nosy people I can deal with. It's nothing new to me. Besides, most of my best friends are too nosy for their own good." He smiled to show that he wasn't without good will.

Taking out his trunk from his pocket, he set it on the floor, unshrinking it. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Well, _I_ want to know if you love my cousin," Ana restated, like it was far more important than any question her sister could ask.

"While that _is_ a good question, dear sis, I think I would like to know just how intimidated he is by our family yet."

Harry shrugged as he re-shifted the things in his trunk, stuffing his gifts back to the bottom. "My best friend has an immediate family much larger than what I've seen so far, so this isn't so bad." He looked up at the girls. "It's only intimidating because I've never had a boyfriend before. I'm not really sure how to react to meeting his family. It's not like I have a family for him to meet."

Michaela's look turned a bit sympathetic, but Ana said, "We heard Mik met your uncle...A Lupin or something?"

"Oh, Remus. Er...he's not my uncle. He's not even related to me. He's just the last person alive who was best friends with my parents."

"Oh goodness, Harry! I am sorry..."

"No worries. I think Mikhail totally got the wrong idea about the situation when he met Remus, but that's okay. Remus is like family." He smiled and closed his trunk. "So, I take it there are more of you?"

Michaela smiled ruefully and Ana said, "Unfortunately, yes. Uncle Stanislav has a brother and he has two children. They are all completely rotten."

"Well, I'm not sure I'd got that far..." Michaela said.

"Oh, please. Mila's got her wand shoved so far up her arse I'm surprised it does not poke out of her nose when she laughs."

Harry laughed. "And is...Mykhail-Mykhailio-"

"Mykhailo," Michaela supplied.

"Yeah, is he as bad?"

Ana rolled her eyes and fell over on the bed. "Oh, jeeze. Thinks he's Merlin's gift to...well, Merlin."

Harry chuckled. "They sound like quite a pair."

"They are. _Actually_, I mean. They are twins."

"Their parents are not much better, but they come every Christmas anyway." Michaela said.

"I do not know why, Ivan does not get on with Aunt Ana at all," Ana said.

"And he hates Mikhail," Michaela finished.

"He hates Mikhail? Why?"

Ana's face went sad, and Michaela sobered. "For the same reason you are here, Harry."

Harry pondered that for a moment. "You mean...because he's gay?"

Michaela just nodded.

Harry scowled. "Wonderful," he muttered, looking down to his trunk. As he latched it and locked it with a spell, the door burst open and Mikhail stood in the frame, obviously broken free to save his boyfriend from his evil cousin's clutches.

Noticing the sour looks in the room, he immediately said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Michaela said. "Just talking about, you know, _family_." And she gave her cousin a _look_.

"Oh. Yeah. Those arseholes." He swooped down to kneel behind Harry and give him a hug. "Don't worry about it, love. I'll protect you."

That made Harry smile. He put his hands on the arms around him and turned his head to say, "Shouldn't I be saying those words? You know, Saviour of the Wizarding World and all."

Mikhail grinned and said lowly, "Not this time, Potter. Now you get to have your own knight in shining armour." And he kissed Harry amid grins and little squeals from the girls on the bed.

"Come on," Mikhail said, once Harry's embarrassed blush wore off. "Let's go downstairs and get sloshed. Uncle Dymtro's hilarious when drunk."

"Too bad Nikolai is just obnoxious," Ana commented as they filed out of the room.

* * *

Draco stood in front of the door for just a moment – a slight hesitation. As he went to take the handle and open the door, it swung open, a small house-elf peeking behind it.

"It is so wonderful to have Master Draco back at Malfoy Manor," she said, bowing her nose to the floor. "Please, please, come inside. Lindy will tend to your needs." The house-elf opened the door wide and allowed Draco and Raven to step inside.

Draco forgot what manners he felt he could have towards a house-elf, even with his upbringing in mind, mostly because he was staring slack-jawed and short of breath at a foyer that was as familiar to him as his wand, yet so foreign he felt like he was seeing it for the first time. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he was keeping back a torrent of emotions and thoughts that he would rather never have to deal with.

"Thank you, Lindy," Raven said for him, nodding and smiling down at the creature. "If you would please fetch the luggage from the carriage, that would be most helpful."

"Oh yes, Master Draco's honourable guest. Lindy will see to it right away," she said before closing the door and popping out of room.

Raven stepped just behind Draco, placing a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. Draco swallowed hard and said, not looking away from the candle-lit room around him, "It looks so...perfect. Like it's never been touched."

"You almost don't want to ruin it, do you?" Raven asked, more rhetorical than serious.

"I can't just leave everything here, Raven. It's...I don't think I could live here anymore. But I can't let it sit here like a museum to all the things that nobody wants to think about anymore. That_ I_ don't want to think about anymore."

"But it is your family home, Draco. Perhaps we can try and purge it of what makes it so undesirable, and start anew?"

Draco's brow furrowed in thought. Finally he turned to her. "Make it ours," he said, with some determination.

Raven smiled. "Yes. I like that."

Draco leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the mouth when Lindy popped back into the foyer.

Bowing low she said, "Master Draco, Lindy is putting your belongings in your old bedroom, and your guest's in one of the guest rooms. Is this okay?"

Draco smiled and looked down at the house-elf. "Yes, Lindy, that is fine. Which guest room?"

"The one in the Northwest corner, Master Draco."

"Hmm...no, that will not do. Please put Raven's things in the room next to mine. The one in blue and white."

"Yes, Master Draco. Lindy is seeing to this right away. Is there anything Master Draco is needing from Lindy or the other house-elves?"

"Tea, Lindy. In the Summer Room near the kitchens. Thank you."

"Yes, Master Draco," Lindy said before popping off again.

Draco smiled at Raven. "Granger would be so proud of me."

"Why's that?"

"Have you ever heard of S.P.E.W?" Draco asked with a slight grin while he guided her down the hall.

* * *

Harry was now sitting on a large sofa, pressed between Mikhail's Aunt Katya on one side, and Nikolai on the other. He had a glass of scotch in one hand, untouched because he had to answer questions about...everything.

"What are you studying Harry?" Anastasiya would ask.

"Medical Magic," he would reply.

"What do you think you will do when you graduate?" Katya would ask.

"Erm...I don't know yet," he'd say.

"Have you thought about professional Quidditch, Harry?" Michaela would ask.

"A little," he mumbled, not looking at Mikhail.

"Are you and my _plem'annik_¹ Mikhail moving in together?" asked Dmytro.

Mikhail thankfully steered the line of questioning away from that quickly enough that Harry didn't have to come up with a reply.

"So, Harry, which one of you tops, and which one bottoms?" Nikolai asked at one point, effectively ending all conversation.

"What?" Nikolai said, looking around in wonder. "I want to know."

"Nikolai Derevko!" his usually quiet mother exclaimed, scandalised.

"Now, Nikolai," Stanislav said, admonishing.

"Highly inappropriate," Dmytro said, and his two girls nodded, scowling at their brother.

"That is absolutely _nobody's_ business, _Niko_," Mikhail said with clenched teeth.

"Sorry..." Nikolai had the grace to look sheepish, and knocked back more of his glass of alcohol.

Trying to get over his mortification, Harry asked Michaela and Ana, "So...I know Nikolai has been in America, but how is it you guys speak English so well?"

Michaela answered. "Oh, because of Mikhail. He has been speaking English too long. Does not keep up on his Russian."

"That's not true!" Mikhail said, defending himself. "I know as much Russian as if I were born there. You only learned English so you could navigate the shops in Diagon alley without a translation spell."

"I made sure they knew enough English to communicate with their cousin," Katya put in. "We visit here so often you see. It just seemed fair for everyone to know both English and Russian."

"_Moj russkij __otlichnyj__, kuzen,_²" Mikhail said with a glare in Michaela's direction.

"Stop showing off. We all know you know Russian," Michaela shot back.

Just then, there was a ringing coming from the front of the house before the door opened, and several voices all clamoured over each other, each talking in a language Harry couldn't understand.

"Stanislav!" a voice bellowed.

Harry saw Anastasiya put a hand to her forehead out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, no," Ana said, rolling her eyes.

"Assholes," Michaela muttered under her breath, and her mother shushed her.

"They are family," her mother said firmly.

"Yeah, _stupid_ family," Nikolai said under his breath, taking another drink.

Stanislav stood and said something in Russian, walking out of the sitting room and into the foyer. There was a babble of voices, all sounding cheerful, Harry decided, before he thought he heard his name, and the voices stopped and started again, with even more fervour. Then Stanislav returned with four new people in tow. They all seemed to zero in on Harry, who sat in the middle of the sofa, feeling decidedly unprotected under the scrutiny of the narrowed eyes in front of him. Why was Mikhail sitting on a chair way over _there_?

"Harry Potter," the man with the booming voice said, with an accent that didn't cover up his glee at meeting such a celebrity. He stepped forward to shake Harry's hand, but Harry couldn't stand from the cushy sofa fast enough, and the man had to reach over the coffee table to clasp Harry's hand roughly.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, and he saw Mikhail shift to stand from his peripheral vision.

Stanislav spoke. "Harry, this is my brother, Ivan Chaikovsky. This is his wife, Agnessa, and their son Mykhailo and daughter Mila."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, finally able to get to his feet. Mikhail stood and moved to stand next to him.

Agnessa said something in Russian, directed at Harry, but Harry just looked at her in confusion. He glanced at Mikhail and then heard a huff from Mik's aunt and just as he looked back at her to tell her he didn't understand, she was taking out her wand and pointing it at him.

Faster than anyone could blink, Harry's wand was pointed right between her eyes, and a gasp of breath was held throughout the room. Agnessa's eyes were wide and fearful and she said some things in her native tongue before pausing and saying slowly in English, "Translate," and she moved her wand hand like she was casting a spell.

Harry frowned. "No. Nobody casts a spell on me. Period."

"You will have to speak English while you are in our house, Agnessa," Anastasiya said with finality.

Ivan chuckled as if trying to understand the strange words coming out of Anastasiya's mouth. "But we are all Russian, are we not? Should not Harry get a translation spell and we be finished with it?"

Mikhail's mother glared. "Harry Potter is our guest. We will be accommodating him during his stay, not the other way around."

Stanislav's smile was tight, but he said happily, "It looks like this is a perfect time to get better at speaking English."

Harry lowered his wand, and pursing her lips, Agnessa put her wand away.

"Sorry if I scared you," Harry said, putting his own wand in his pocket.

Agnessa nodded. "Yes, I must know not point wand at such powerful wizard," she said, her English stilted and heavily accented.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm not that powerful."

Mykhailo stepped forward and said in a rather sneering tone, Harry thought, "Are rumours true? I hear you like sleeping with za men."

Nikolai stood, true to Nikolai form and said bitingly, "That's none of your business, _Mykhailio_!"

"It is Mykhailo, you stupid-"

"Children!" Katya exclaimed, standing and moving out from behind Mikhail to brace her small form between what must have looked like two sides of a war. This meeting the family thing was not going well at all, Harry decided.

Mikhail stepped closer to Harry and twined his fingers with his boyfriend's. "Yes, it's true," he said to his cousin, then looked at his uncle with an expression that demanded that he say something about it.

"Too bad," his cousin Mila sniffed. "Harry Potter is rather cute."

There was a chime coming from the kitchen, and Anastasiya said, "I believe supper's ready. Let's all get ready to eat."

Stanislav said, "Why don't I take you all upstairs to your rooms?" and he led them away.

Everyone else filed into the dining room while Anastasiya went to the kitchen to gather dinner. Every place was set beautifully, with gold inlaid china and crystal goblets for wine. The silver gleamed, and there were beautiful red and green flowers in the centre of the table amidst white candles that glowed and flickered merrily. Harry felt very out of place with his trousers and button-down shirt, while everyone else was in robes of some sort. Mikhail seemed to read his thoughts and whispered, "You look edible," in his ear, and Harry blushed as they sat down next to each other at the table. Michaela sat down on his other side, and he felt himself relaxing.

And then the other guests came into the dining room.

Generally, everyone was stiff and uncomfortable, but only for a moment, as Anastasiya came into the room with several dishes floating in behind her. She flicked her wand and they floated gently down around the table, situating themselves in their proper places. It all smelled wonderful, Harry decided.

Once everyone was sitting, Stanislav stood and with a flick of his wand, the goblets around the table were being filled with a deep red wine. Once filled, Stanislav picked up his goblet and gestured to the people gathered.

"What a wonderful Christmas Eve, everyone! I am so delighted that Harry could join us, and with this meal, I wish us all very happy holidays this year!" Then they all raised their glasses and toasted each other with sayings of "Happy Christmas!" and "Glad to have you, Harry!" amongst clinking goblets and sharing wine. Then Stanislav used his wand to slice up the Christmas ham and started serving everyone, their plates hovering over to him while he cut and served. After each person had ham, there was a rather interesting mash of everyone making sure they got what they wanted on their plates, with bowls and serving dishes floating and zooming around the table before settling back down when everyone was finished.

They all dug in, and it was quiet but for a clinking of flatware against china, and chewing and sipping wine. Then Agnessa wiped her mouth and said to Anastasiya,

"These foods is good, Anastasiya."

"Why, thank you, Agnessa," Anastasiya replied, smiling and nodding at her sister in law. "How are your gardens doing?"

"Zey ver doing vell before...vat is word? Cold?"

"The first frost?" Anastasiya supplied.

Agnessa nodded. "Yes, frost. It vos early. I have pictures from before in room."

"Oh, lovely. I'd love to see them after supper." To Harry she said, "Agnessa is a prize winning exotic gardener."

"Really? Do you grow Siberian Squill? I've been meaning to get some to study for use in some of the less than pleasant healing potions."

"I do not know zis plant. Perhaps you describe to me?"

"So, Harry," Ivan interrupted, "How did you and Mikhail meet?" His words were careful and he put the food on his fork in his mouth as if it might bite him before he could get it in.

"Oh...we're both on our school Quidditch team."

"What position do you play?"

"Everyone knows Harry Potter plays Seeker, Uncle," Nikolai said as if his uncle were an idiot.

"Vell, _I_ do not know. I do not get za news from England like I used to," Ivan said, looking pointedly at his sister in law. Anastasiya looked at him calmly, not needing words to convey how she felt about Ivan.

"Harry's the best Seeker I've ever played with," Mikhail said, giving Harry a sweet smile. Harry blushed.

"You are just saying zat because he is your boyfriend," Mykhailo said.

Mikhail frowned across the table at his cousin. "I am not. He's really very good. He started playing at a younger age than most professional players. His friend Draco Malfoy is also very good, though I'd like to think that has to do with him being under Harry's tutelage."

Harry smiled. "No, Draco's pretty good. He was also always a cheat at Hogwarts, but he wasn't a bad Quidditch player. The rest of his team just sucked."

"Vill you play Seeker for professional team, zen?" Ivan asked.

Harry loaded his fork again while he answered. "I've thought about it."

"Harry is studying to be a Medi-Wizard," Anastasiya told Ivan.

"Zere is no money in zat," Ivan said, waving his hand as if to wave away the notion.

"I don't need money," Harry said earnestly, totally seeing what Mikhail's cousins were saying about Ivan and his family. Well, Agnessa seemed alright, as far as he could tell.

"Yes, I imagine England pay you vell for killing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Harry frowned. "No, actually. My parents left me some money before Voldemort killed them when I was a baby."

Half of the table flinched at the name, and Harry had to try very hard not to roll his eyes. Honestly.

Mikhail put his arm around Harry and gave him a little hug. Harry sent him a small smile, but otherwise, continued eating. Dinner from then on was rather subdued, with light conversation between couples of people, and Harry wished things hadn't gotten so awkward.

Trying again to have a conversation with Agnessa, he repeated his question about Siberian Squill, describing it to her and what its magical properties were. She nodded, saying yes, that she cultivated some, but that she used it more for decorating their house in Russia, not in her exotic gardening. She agreed to send him some bulbs when they returned home.

Once dinner was finished, they retired to the family room to partake in some dessert and coffee and watch the fairy lights dance around the tree. Mikhail's face lit up fantastically when his mum brought out a fruit piroshky, his favourite dessert from Russia.

"You've got to try this, Harry – it's the best thing in the world, and my mum makes them the best." Mikhail held out a pastry for Harry to try.

"You humble your mother, Mikhail," Anastasiya said, blushing.

Harry leaned forward and took a bite out of the flaky pastry and fruit filling. It was very good. He told Anastasiya this and she waved his comment away. Then Harry happened to see the looks on Mykhailo, Mila, and Ivan's faces and his mood took a downturn. _They didn't disguise their homophobia very well, did they?_ Harry thought.

"Don't give them a second thought, Harry," Mikhail said into his ear while everyone else was distracted with 'safe' conversation. "They're just jealous."

Harry chuckled sardonically. "Oh? Of what?"

"Of me. They're just pissed that someone as gorgeous as you is dating me and not them."

"Even your uncle?"

Mikhail conceded. "Okay, maybe not him, but I bet Mykhailo's just pissed because he wants to fuck you and can't."

Harry blushed a bright scarlet and tried to hide his face behind his own piroshky. "Shut up," he mumbled, making Mikhail laugh.

Shortly after finishing their coffee and piroshky, Nikolai demanded that they should all be able to open one of their presents before bed. His mother said that he should learn how to wait for Christmas morning, especially after twenty-one years of Christmases.

"But Mama, I want to open one _now_," he whined.

"Oh, I left my present for you upstairs," Harry said to Mikhail.

"That's okay, you can bring it down later."

"If you are going to keep asking, I am going to send you to bed," Katya was saying.

"Mama!"

"No."

"Nikolai, please shut up. You are giving me headache," Mila said.

"Looking at you gives me a headache," Nikolai retorted.

"I vill not have you talking to my daughter zat vey!" Ivan bellowed, standing.

"Oh, Merlin, here they go," Mikhail said, putting his hand around Harry's bicep. "Let's sneak upstairs." He and Harry stood.

"Ivan, please calm down," his brother said, putting a hand on his arm.

"No, I vill not! Vy is it your wife family always insulting mine?"

"Because you're a bunch of bigoted morons!" Nikolai yelled.

Now everyone was standing and yelling at each other in heated Russian and they didn't notice Mikhail and Harry slip out of the room and up the stairs.

Mikhail led them to his room and shut the door. There was a cot and a valise taking up most of the floor space, but generally, Mikhail's room was pretty spacious. It had Quidditch posters all over the walls, and a small but tidy desk. The dresser had pictures of Mikhail at different ages, and some trophies and medals from Hogwarts and Quidditch. Some old Quidditch gear and memorabilia from Ravenclaw sat in a corner, and Mikhail's bed had a star-pattern quilt made of varying shades of blue and bronze-toned fabric.

"My mum learned how to quilt and made it for me after I went to Hogwarts," Mikhail said, noting Harry's gaze.

"It's nice. I wish I had something like it."

Mikhail sat himself and Harry down on his bed. "Maybe my mum can make you one. In Gryffindor colours."

"Oh, I can't ask her to do that."

"Yes you can. She'd want to. I can tell she really likes you. Besides my father's side of the family, you're like family here. Everyone loves you."

"I don't know how, I just answered a bunch of inane questions."

Mikhail smiled. "Yes, all things most of them knew already, from talking to me." He brushed the backs of his fingers against Harry's cheek. "You don't get it do you?" he asked. "People don't just love you because you're Harry Potter; they love you because of who you are. As a person."

"No, I guess I don't get it. I don't understand how people can just see me as any other person and not the 'Famous Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World and Chosen One'. Not people I've just met anyhow. It took long enough for the people I grew up with to get over me being Harry Potter, and to see me just as 'Harry'. You know that's all I've ever wanted."

"And you've got it, Harry. Really, you do." Mikhail kissed him then, and Harry closed his eyes and relished it. It was sweet, and tender, and loving, and when Mikhail cupped his cheek in his hand, he felt some of the tension from the evening ebb out of his body and he relaxed into the kiss.

Harry opened his mouth without prompt, and as he and Mikhail touched tongues a slow burn started to coil in Harry's stomach. Kissing Mikhail was something Harry really didn't feel like stopping at any point soon, because the world started to melt away, and all he felt was Mikhail's stubble scratching his chin, and the soft, pliable lips demanding more of his attention. And the feel and taste of their breath mingling kept Harry hoping heaven had some of this in it, or he didn't want to go.

Mikhail's arms were around him now, and Harry was burying his hands in Mikhail's short hair, and when Harry fell back onto the bed, Mikhail's heavy warmth fell automatically between his legs. Mikhail's hands moved over the soft fabric of Harry's shirt, teasing his nipples through the fabric, before undoing the buttons, one by one.

Harry moaned and arched up a little, and his boyfriend ground down into him and then the door crashing open destroyed his little world of pleasure-induced delirium.

They stopped and looked up, seeing Mykhailo in the door, a wide-eyed and determinedly shocked and disgusted look upon his face. As Mikhail sat back off of Harry and Harry sat up, Mykhailo entered the room and spat, "Gross."

"Well, you can _leave_ if you don't like it," Mikhail bit back. "This is _my_ room,after all."

Mykhailo said something in Russian which seemed to have the effect of "Fuck off, you disgusting faggot," in English.

Just as Mikhail was about to open his mouth to retort Harry stood from the bed and crossed the room to get in Mykhailo's face, which was a bit hard, seeing as Mykhailo had at least six inches on him.

"Look, Mykhailo, I don't give a rat's arse what you think about me. But Mikhail's your family, and if you can't accept him for whom he is, then what the fuck are you doing here?"

Mykhailo look startled, being confronted by a man who was several inches shorter than him, and he stared into Harry's eyes for a moment before responding.

"I am here because it is Christmas, and we always spend Christmas here."

Harry huffed, and Mikhail said from behind him, "You're thirty-three, Mykhailo. You don't have to come here any more if you don't want to. You're not some kid doing whatever you dad wants you to do anymore."

Mykhailo didn't answer, he just went to his valise and took out a few of his belongings and disappeared down the hall.

Mikhail sighed. Harry went over to him and hugged him about the shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said into his boyfriend's hair, kissing it. "I wish I could help more."

"Well, even if you became the poster boy for gay wizards everywhere, I doubt my uncle and his family would change their minds about who we are."

Harry tilted Mikhail's face up and kissed his mouth softly. "I think it's time to go to bed," he said. "I'll see you in the morning, okay? Hey – and cheer up. It's Christmas!"

Mikhail smiled and kissed Harry again. "Goodnight, Harry. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Mikhail," Harry said, before retiring to his shared room with Nikolai.

When he got there, Nikolai was already sprawled out on his bed in his dressing gown, long limbs everywhere and dozing softly.

"Hnnuh?" he mumbled in his sleep as Harry came in.

"It's just Harry, Nikolai. Go back to sleep."

"Hunmm," he replied.

Harry just shook his head and closed the door, going to his trunk and changing into his pyjamas. It was as cold in Yorkshire as it was in Cumbria, and Harry slipped into the thick covers gratefully, falling into sleep with ease.

* * *

Harry woke in the middle of the night to a creaking noise. His wand was already out and pointed towards the door. "Who's there?" he whispered.

"Calm down, it's just me," the voice of his boyfriend said, before the light from the moon coming in through the window gleamed off of Mikhail's bare chest as he moved towards Harry.

"What're you doing here?" Harry said in a panicked whisper, lowering his wand and sitting up. "You'll wake Nikolai!"

"No, I won't. That boy sleeps like the dead," Mikhail said, and kneeled on the edge of Harry's bed.

"That doesn't explain what you're doing here," Harry said, slipping his wand beneath his pillow and crossing his arms.

"To finish what we started earlier, of course," Mikhail said with a mischievous grin on his face as he leaned forward to kiss Harry.

But Harry dodged his advance and said, "Mikhail, your mum put me in this room and not yours for a reason. Besides, it'd be rude to..._do_ stuff in your parents' house!"

Mikhail rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Harry. My parents are probably expecting it. It's not like they're strict. They just didn't want to make the rest of my family uncomfortable." He leaned forward again to kiss Harry, and with an 'oh, fine,' look on his face, Harry let him.

After a few moments of kissing, Mikhail pushed the duvet aside and slipped beneath the covers with Harry, making Harry lean back into his pillows.

Breaking away for a moment, Harry whispered, "I still don't feel right, with Nikolai right _there_. I mean, what if he does wake up?"

Mikhail smiled and pulled out his wand from his pyjama pocket and cast a spell that erected a black screen barrier between Harry's bed and the rest of the room. Then Mikhail cast a silencing spell around Harry's bed so no noise reached outside the barrier. Dropping his wand on the floor, Mikhail grinned down at Harry and resumed his kissing, diving deeper with his tongue and slowly lowering his weight down upon Harry, who found his legs parting to allow Mikhail to lie between them.

Mikhail moved his hips in a gentle rocking motion, his lips leaving Harry's to travel along his jaw and under his ear, where the hot breath panting there sent delicious shivers down Harry's whole body and he broke out in gooseflesh.

One of Mikhail's hands played with Harry's hair, while the other teased his ribs through his pyjama top before going to work on the buttons. Harry's hands roamed all over Mikhail's back, where sweat was gathering and his skin was like a supernova. His hands slicked against the smooth flesh, and it was hard to find purchase there when Mikhail finally got Harry's shirt unbuttoned and his rocks became shallow thrusts down into Harry.

Harry pushed himself up a bit, letting Mikhail pull Harry's shirt down his shoulders and off, throwing it over his shoulder. Frowning, Mikhail blinked down at Harry's neck, where the charm he wore glowed faintly blue-green in the dark of the bedroom, shining off Mikhail's eyes and skin.

"Are you sure you won't take this off? Its glowing is kinda weird."

Harry put his hand over it, the glow dulling. "Yes, I'm sure."

Mikhail's mouth formed a tight line for a moment but he leaned down and kissed the back of the hand Harry held there, trailing kisses over the forearm and up to his shoulder, apparently deciding to ignore the strange necklace for the time being.

His hands stroked the skin of Harry's torso, and Harry moved his hands to Mikhail's back, digging his blunt nails into the flesh behind the shoulder blades. Then Mikhail shoved his hands down the back of Harry's pyjama pants, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing the flesh there.

"Stop me if I'm going too fast..." Mikhail whispered in a tone that hoped that Harry wouldn't.

Harry waited for the feeling of bugs crawling under his skin to come but it never did. He waited for that voice in his head to protest, but if it did, it was faint under the pounding of blood in his ears. Everything felt…normal. There was a tensing in Harry's shoulders and back as he waited for the inevitable letdown. For it to stop feeling so _good_.

But strangely, nothing came.

"I'm okay," Harry whispered back.

They continued rocking, pressing their bodies together, grabbing flesh clumsily, panting heavily into each other's ears, little grunts and moans escaping kiss-bruised lips, and then with a burst of ecstasy, it was over.

Breathless, Mikhail fell beside Harry, still half on top of him, and they laid like that for several minutes, each breathing heavily and feeling immensely sated.

"Wow," Mikhail said after a moment. "That was...the most we've ever done..."

"Yeah..." Harry said, gasping. "It was...incredible." _I can't believe I just did that… Have I finally gotten over Draco?_ Harry was certain that it shouldn't be disappointment he was feeling at that thought.

Mikhail chuckled and rolled up to kiss the last of the breath out of Harry before falling back down next to him.

Harry slipped his hand under his pillow for his wand and cleaned them up before turning to Mikhail and snuggling into the curve of his body, pushing away his thoughts. Mouthing kisses on his chest, he said, "I suppose you'd better get back to your room."

"Are you kidding? After that? No, sir, I'm staying right where I am, thank you very much. Besides, I imagine Mykhailo's already noticed I'm gone. I don't really want to think about talking to him about why I smell like wonderful boy-sex."

"He's only going to say something in the morning when you're not there either. Maybe he's still asleep."

"No, I doubt it." Mikhail got up on one elbow and looked down at Harry. "I was right, you know. About Mykhailo."

"What do you mean?"

"I think he thought I was asleep, but I woke up a bit after we went to bed, and he was jerking off. Right there, in my room."

"And?" Harry asked, not quite getting why that proved anything other than that Mykhailo was as horny as any other male Harry had met.

"He was panting and saying your name."

Harry's eyes shot wide open in alarm. "What?!"

Mikhail nodded. "I pretended to be asleep, and waited for him to be finished, and then a few moments later, I came here. I know he was still awake and knew I had heard him."

"Oh my god..."

"He can't have you, you know. No matter what his fantasies want."

Harry gave him the 'no shit' look. "Well, I don't want him anyway. You don't have to get jealous of your cousin, Mik. I want to be with you. You're cousin's still an ass, even if he's obviously a closeted one."

Mikhail chuckled and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend. They lay like that for several moments, kissing lazily and stroking each other's skin before Mikhail shifted and said, "Maybe I should go back. This bed is a little small."

"Yeah, maybe."

Harry watched as Mikhail retrieved his wand from the floor and his pyjama bottoms from the tangle of sheets at the foot of the bed. Mikhail gave him a beautiful grin and one last kiss before taking down the barrier spells and leaving the room, looking as shagged as Harry felt.

Flopping back into the bed, Harry fell deep asleep, not even thinking about how incredibly naked he was, or that his thin covers didn't do much to hide the fact of what he'd been up to that night.

* * *

Someone bouncing onto his bed in the early hours of the morning woke Harry from his blissful slumber, and he blinked against the bright sunlight streaming in through the curtains.

"Harry! Harry! It's time to get up! It's Christmas morning!" Nikolai was nearly shouting. "Whoa-ho... You look like you were busy last night!"

"Oh, shut up," Harry said playfully, rubbing the sleepies from his eyes.

"So, did you and Mikhail do it?"

"Oh my god!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up and trying to pull his covers up to hide his nudity better. "No!"

Nikolai laughed, and continued to lie there, pinning down the duvet. "It's okay. Mikhail told me that you haven't been like that yet."

Harry stopped struggling. "He did?"

Nikolai sat up, nodding. "In total confidence. Don't worry. The girls don't know. I think Mikhail just wanted some advice."

Harry looked dubious. "And he wanted it from you?"

Nikolai shrugged. "I don't like blokes myself, but I've had my fair share of relationships. He just wanted reassurances that he wasn't pushing you too much."

"He's not," Harry insisted.

"I told him he wasn't either, but he's stupidly insecure about it." Nikolai shrugged and stood. "Better get into something resembling clothes, though. Everyone's sure to be up soon and opening presents." With that, the strange young man bounced off Harry's bed and out the door.

Once the door was firmly closed, Harry got out of the bed and found his pyjamas, which had been strewn all over, it seemed, and slipped them on. _Or was that too informal?_ he wondered. Shrugging out of his pyjamas, he knelt in front of his trunk to find a decent set of clothes to wear. He was fingering an old and comfortable Weasley jumper when there was a knock on the door and it opened behind him. He froze, looking over his shoulder.

Mykhailo stood in the doorway, a bright pink flush creeping up his neck and from his ears to his cheeks.

"I-I am sorry..." the older man stuttered, looking pointedly anywhere except Harry's naked body. "I just came to...wake everyone. I vill go now." And he backed up a few steps to close the door.

Harry stood, using the jumper to cover himself. "Wait!" he said. Mykhailo paused, and then, instead of standing there with the door wide open, he came in and shut it most of the way behind him. He looked down at the floor and to the left, the tension in his body visible in the set of his jaw and the cords of his neck.

Harry stood there, holding his Weasley jumper to his groin, contemplating what exactly to say.

He started with, "I know."

"Know vat?" Was Mykhailo's careful reply.

"Mikhail saw you last night...wanking...and it's alright!" Harry said complacently, holding out his free hand as if to stop Mykhailo from fleeing. "Really. I mean...I understand if you don't want your father to know about you...and I'm not going to say anything. I promise. I just think that maybe you owe it to yourself to be honest about how you feel."

Mykhailo's lip curled. "How I feel about vat, exactly?"

"About men," Harry replied.

Mykhailo scowled. "I do not feel anything about men. I do not know vat my _kuzen_ thought he saw, but I like girls."

Harry frowned. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. And in the long run, I don't really care. But maybe you should think about it a bit more...especially before you call my boyfriend a _faggot_."

Then Harry turned, not caring much about his nudity, and pulled his jumper over his head before bending down and retrieving some pants and jeans from his trunk and slipping them on. Grabbing Mikhail's present, he slammed his trunk closed and spun back around, taking a few steps forward. Mykhailo stepped to the side, and Harry opened the door the rest of the way, stalking out of the room and down the stairs where Mikhail was sitting with Nikolai, Stanislav and Michaela.

Mikhail was dressed in a jumper and his pyjama bottoms, Nikolai was still in his dressing gown, and Michaela was curled up in a chair with some hot cider and wrapped in a large blanket.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said, putting a smile on his face.

There was a 'Happy Christmas' from everyone in the room and then Mikhail said, "What's wrong?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing." He went to the tree and put Mikhail's gift underneath with all the other brightly wrapped presents. Sitting down next to Mikhail on the sofa he smiled and said, "I forgot to bring it down last night."

Mikhail grinned knowingly, and put an arm around his boyfriend and pulled him against his side. "You sure everything's okay?"

Mykhailo walked into the family room and moved to sit on the other side of Harry on the sofa. He smiled tightly, but otherwise, sat in his pressed trousers and jumper and played with the fabric on his knees while trying not to look at anything in particular.

Harry turned to Mikhail. "Yep. Everything's fine."

"How'd you sleep last night, Harry?" Stanislav asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh," he said, looking up at Mikhail and across the room to Nikolai, who was sitting next to the tree like he couldn't wait to rip open all of his presents, "pretty well." Nikolai snorted.

Michaela said, "Nikolai's snoring didn't keep you up?"

"I do not snore!" her brother protested.

"Yes you do, brother," Ana said sleepily as she padded into the room and plopped down on the floor in front of her sister's chair, "only when you drink."

"I didn't drink that much yesterday."

His family around him snorted and moved on to other, gentle topics of discussion. Harry just leaned against his boyfriend, feeling warm and secure, and tucked his feet under him, purposely ignoring the slight flinch from Mykhailo when his feet rested against the other man's upper thigh. It didn't seem like Mikhail ignored it though, as his arm around Harry's shoulders squeezed him a little closer.

As the morning went on, the rest of the family came down the stairs, Ivan, Agnessa and Mila all looking impeccable in their semi-formal clothing, and Anastasiya, Katya and Dmytro looking more comfortable, still in their pyjamas and dressing gowns. Anastasiya had come from the kitchen, bringing in a tray of coffee, tea and cider for everyone to choose from.

"Is everyone downstairs?" Anastasiya asked. "Good, I guess it's time for presents! Stanislav, if you would?" He gestured for her husband to distribute the gifts out to everyone. As the gifts were passed around, Harry felt certain he would only get one, when in fact he had four: two from Mikhail, one from Mikhail's parents, and one from the Derevko family.

Everyone had a tidy little pile of gifts; though Harry noticed the parents didn't have quite as many.

"Now," Anastasiya said, "Harry, you are our guest, so you should go first."

"Me?" Harry asked. "You want me to open all of them?"

Anastasiya nodded. "Yes, of course dear. Guests first." And she smiled.

"Okay…" Harry said, looking at the collection of packages on his lap.

"Open ours first!" Ana said, smiling. "We cousins picked it out for you."

Harry picked it up. It was wrapped in a simple gold foil, but upon closer inspection, Harry noticed little darker gold snitches flying across the paper. It was tied with a green bow. Slipping off the bow, Harry tore off the wrapping and opened the wooden box inside.

Inside was a quality note-taking quill and a journal.

Harry looked up from fingering the leather cover of the journal and said, "Wow…thanks you guys, really."

"We know it seems a bit impersonal, but we thought, no matter what you are studying or what profession you go into, it is always a good idea to have a really good quick-notes quill and a journal to write things in," Michaela said.

"Are you kidding?" Harry said. "This'll be perfect for my medical notes. Thanks!"

"No problem, Harry," said Nikolai.

"Now ours, Harry," said Stanislav.

Their present was a bit larger, and looked a bit like a garment box. Harry quickly unwrapped to and opened the box inside to find a new winter jacket lined in soft and silky rabbit fur. The pea coat was made of thick, dark, navy-coloured wool, and the rabbit fur lining the collar, the cuffs, and the body was a shiny black.

"Oh…oh, wow. Mr. and Mrs. Chaikovsky, you shouldn't have." Harry looked up from the coat with wide eyes.

Stanislav waved him away. "No, no, Harry. It was our pleasure."

"Please, Harry, call us Stanislav and Anastasiya. It would mean much to us for you to accept this gift."

Harry fingered the fur rimming the collar. "I will. I like it very much. Thank you, Stanislav. Anastasiya." He smiled at them, still in a bit of awe.

"Now mine, Harry," said Mikhail.

Harry shook his head. "Nope. I want you to open mine first."

Mikhail smirked. "Alright," he conceded.

Taking Harry's gift, he slipped off the twine and tore off the staple plain brown paper. Harry liked to think his wrapping job wasn't too bad.

Inside was a book on Advanced Quidditch Theory and Practices, as well as a book on the theory of Spell Creation and a blank journal.

Mikhail smiled as he thumbed through each volume. Looking at Harry, he gave him a quick kiss. "Thanks, love."

Harry smiled. "I thought you could use the journal for all of your spell creation discoveries."

"That's a perfect idea. I think I will." They kissed again, and then Mikhail gestured to the two packages left on Harry's lap.

Harry picked up the larger one first. It was a book on all the Pro-Quidditch teams with a thorough history and a stats list on the current players. It also had a pros and cons section for each team, obviously written for those players looking to play professionally.

"Wow, awesome, Mikhail! Thanks!"

"Now the next one."

Harry opened the smaller present and saw a small silver key nestled in white fluff. Underneath it was a small slip of paper. On it were directions to casting a spell. A very specific locking and unlocking spell.

"I…Mikhail…" Harry stuttered, looking down at the small package which held so much meaning.

Mikhail said, "It's the key to my building. And the spell key to my flat. I want you to have it."

Harry looked up at Mikhail. "I…don't quite know what to say."

Mikhail ran his hand through his hair and explained, "I'm not asking you to move in with me…I just want you to be able to come and go."

Harry looked back down at the gift and swallowed. "Okay."

"I am not sure Harry appreciates za gift, Mikhail," Mykhailo said.

"Shut up," Nikolai said. "No one asked you."

Mikhail frowned. "Harry?"

Harry looked up, startled. "I'm fine! It's okay, really. It's just…unexpected." He smiled. "Really, I'm okay. Just a bit surprised is all. Don't worry."

Leaning up, he gave Mikhail a long, close-mouthed kiss, partially for his own reassurance. Was this too fast? He didn't know. Under Harry's new jacket and his own pile of presents, he felt Mykhailo gently brush his foot with his fingertips in his own silent form of unexpected reassurance. There was a noise from the Ivan-Mila side of the room, but otherwise, the room was silent.

"Thank you," Harry said, closing the box and tucking it into his pocket. Smiling at the room, he leaned against his boyfriend and let Mikhail's arm drape heavily around his shoulders, pulling him close. He wiggled his foot in response to the fingers still resting lightly atop it.

"Nikolai," Anastasiya said. "How about you go next?"

Grinning widely, Nikolai tore into his presents with relish, and Harry was happy to have the focus move off of him once again.

* * *

Translations:

1 - Normal 0 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 !-- / Style Definitions / p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal mso-style-parent:""; margin:4.3pt; mso-pagination:none; mso-hyphenate:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language:AR-SA; page Section1 size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0; div.Section1 page:Section1; -- _plem'annik - _"nephew"

2 - Normal 0 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 !-- / Style Definitions / p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal mso-style-parent:""; margin:4.3pt; mso-pagination:none; mso-hyphenate:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language:AR-SA; page Section1 size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0; div.Section1 page:Section1; -- _Moj russkij otlichnyj, kuzen_ - "My Russian is excellent, cousin."

I'll be "re-writing" the earlier chapters of this story. I probably won't be updating it here, but on my website. It's been FOUR years since I started this story, and my writing style and skills have changed, so I feel the need to make the whole story flow better and be more cohesive. I won't be changing the plot, really, mostly the flow of chapters and some of the dialogue. For more consistent updates on my story status (since I can't make notes to EVERYONE here), please visit my website or LJ. Thanks!


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